Blame and Sacrifice
by LineSofie
Summary: Follows episode 1x08. Mary leaves the French Court with Bash. Follow their journey in France, away from the safety of the Court. What will happen to Mary? To Francis? To Bash? Will Mary make it back to Scotland? Will Francis lose her for good? This is a Frary fanfiction and I tend to avoid the Mash pairing, though, it will appear in this story.
1. Chapter One

This is the first chapter of my very first Reign fanfiction. I am in love with this show and I cannot wait till January 23rd - only 15 more days to go!

Note: I have written this story, going with the knowledge that Reign, Wikipedia and the Internet can give me. I read that Francis grew up in a castle in Saint-Germain-en-Laye, so in my story, this is where they travel from. Saint-Pol-de-Léon was the place where Mary originally sailed to at the age of six. I try to incorporate history as much as I can, but you will find that I am taking liberties with history, just like the show does. I do not own Reign and I am actually glad that I don´t. I could never make it half as great as it is. I hope this story will be entertaining though. I apologize that the characters might be OOC at some points, but I did the best that I could.

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**Chapter One:**

"_You will be blamed for the death of the Queen´s firstborn,"_ the words of Nostradamus were reappearing inside her mind as she looked back over her shoulders. She had to force herself to look away. Francis, her sweet Francis, was running to her, yelling her name over and over again in a voice that Mary could only describe as _broken_.

As she nudged the horse and rode past the trees of the long gravel road that led to the castle, she had to remind herself, though it hurt, why she was leaving.

_"You will be blamed for the death of the Queen´s firstborn. You will blame yourself most of all. I see Francis, barely older than he is now, cold to your touch. You´re wed, but childless, alone at this court, without a friend to comfort you."_

She was only aware that tears were streaming down her cheeks when they were too far away to hear Francis´ cries. Or did he stop? She didn´t know, but she could not risk looking back.

The Francis she had just seen was unlike the strong man that she loved. He was, in lack of a better word, broken. And it was all her fault. Everything was her fault, but it had been necessary. Yes, she had to believe that.

She couldn´t risk trusting the small part of her that hoped that Nostradamus was wrong, that he had misinterpreted the visions he´d had. No, he had been right every time he had made a prediction before; he had been right about the Lion and the Dragon fighting a battle to the death in a field of poppies, and he had been right about… She had to swallow a whimper. He had been right about Aylee.

She couldn´t resist the urge to look down at her hands to make sure that there was no more blood on them.

She took a deep breath and found that it was difficult. She was nearly hyperventilating.

She looked up to find Sebastian looking at her. He didn´t have to put words to the question in his eyes.

She couldn´t find the strength to tell him about the reason for her departure, not yet. She was certain the he would understand, after all, he knew more about dark magic and superstition, as Francis would call it, than any other she knew. She knew she could trust him.

For now, however, she wished for nothing more than be left to her own thoughts, no matter how much it hurt.

She had no inkling as to where they were traveling, but she could follow the sun. Her safest guess was west.

Neither she nor Sebastian spoke, and she supposed that he was waiting for her to speak first.

She tried to focus on her surroundings, but her mind continuously traveled back to the French Court and Francis. Did he hate her? She never wanted him to hate her, but she soon realized that it was better for him to hate her. She could never go back. He deserved someone better, someone who wasn´t scared and didn´t have a country hanging around her neck. It was painful, but she had to come to terms with the fact that she would never see Francis again. She would never see him smile and feel his arms around her again. She would never feel him touch her like he had just two nights before.

She was only partly aware of how much this would come back to haunt her in the future. She had lost her virtue, no, she had _given_ him her virtue, and she could no longer wed any kings. What king would want a Queen who had already been touched by another man?

Midday turned to afternoon and soon the sun was disappearing in the horizon. For the first time since leaving the court, Sebastian spoke.

"We should camp for the night. It will be dark soon and it is too dangerous to travel through these woods at night. I am afraid that there is no town nearby, so this will have to do."

Mary only nodded in response and watched as he descended his horse. He walked to a small clearing, about 20 meters away and looked around. He seemed to be talking to himself, cursing some unseen person, before he returned to her.

She wouldn´t ask, but she wanted to know why he had needed to flee the Castle. What had happened?

Sebastian helped her down from her horse and led her to the clearing. It looked like he had cleared a spot for her and she wondered for a moment how she hadn´t noticed him doing so.

"Will you be warm enough?" he asked, the worried expression never leaving his features. Mary nodded again, wrapping her cape tightly around her shoulders. She lied down on the ground, finding it cold and hard, reassembling how she felt inside. She wasn´t comfortable, but her body was exhausted and she quickly found a restless sleep.

She awakened with a gasp. Light from a fire that Sebastian had started broke through the darkness that still surrounded them. She could see him getting up from his spot, leaning against a tree.

Had he been awake this entire time?

"Are you alright, Mary?" he asked as he sat down beside her.

Tears were streaming down her cheeks but she couldn´t find it in her to care about her appearance in front of Sebastian. He had already seen her at her most vulnerable, this was not much different. She found no reason to lie to him any longer.

In response to his question, she shook her head. She was not alright. She would never be alright before she was back with Francis, she was sure.

Soon, sobs were shaking her body and she wept into Sebastian´s shoulder. He held her close, but there was nothing romantic about the position. He was deeply concerned. Mary and his brother had been in a state of bliss, had they not? Since Olivia disappeared, they had been happy. Of course, Francis had been shaken and saddened to know that Olivia had vanished in the dungeons, but at that point, he had already realized that he loved Mary, and _only_ Mary.

"What happened, Mary? Why did you leave?" he asked. He needed to know. Whatever it was, it was causing her nightmares.

"The Prophesy…" she sobbed.

Sebastian held her tighter. "What did Nostradamus see?"

Mary, now slightly less frightened and calmer, took a deep breath. She wiped away tears before she spoke in a trembling voice.

"Francis´ death…" Sebastian pulled back slightly to look at her. This time, however, he waited for her to continue on her own.

"He said that our marriage will seal his fate. I had to leave the Court or Francis would die and I would be blamed."

For a few moments, maybe minutes, both were silent. Mary was crying again and Sebastian didn´t know what to say. He seldom felt that way.

No words he could say would make this predicament that Mary had found herself in, any better.


	2. Chapter Two

Thank you to all you who have read the first chapter, it means a lot to me. I would really love reviews though, to really know what you think of this story. I will continue to upload at least one chapter a day to try and have most chapters up by the premiere of the next episode. I have 13 chapters completely written and have a storyline for the rest of the chapters, but I´m starting to rethink the ending. We´ll have to see where it goes :)

Again, I do not own Reign and these characters are not mine. It makes no sense that we have to do this really - of course none of us owns Reign or we wouldn´t be uploading our stories here, would we? :) Okay, I´ll stop ranting...

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**Chapter Two:**

At some point, Mary found sleep again.

When she was awakened by Sebastian in the morning as the sun was rising, she felt no more rested than she had the night before they settled for the night.

When Sebastian had made sure the fire was completely out, he and Mary climbed their horses yet again. They had not gotten far before Mary finally asked.

"Where are we going?" She had wanted to ask for his reason for leaving, but cowered at the last second and changed her mind.

"Saint-Pol-de-Léon," Sebastian replied.

Mary was instantly reminded of the last time she was there.

"Where I met Francis." She had meant for it to be a quiet thought, but the words escaped her lips.

"I apologize for the associations to the place, but if you plan to go back to Scotland, Saint-Pol-de-Léon would be the safest place to sail from."

Mary merely nodded.

She was reliving the first time she met Francis. She remembered clearly how scared she had been. She was only six at the time. She had nearly forgotten the long time it had taken to sail there when she had seen Francis. He made her forget every bad thing that had happened in her young life, and there were surprisingly many. He had grinned happily when she had seen him. He was slightly taller than her, even then.

She remembered how they had laughed on the ride to the castle and how he could always make her smile.

She remembered how they had run around the castle, her constantly chasing him and him constantly winning.

She remembered her frustration every time he won.

She remembered his sad face when she became too impatient and would walk away with a huff, just like Madeleine had done to Charles. She couldn´t help smiling at the memory.

She had loved him, even then. He was her best friend, and at six, she could hardly wait to marry him. She had wanted to be his wife and to live happily ever after with him.

How naïve she had been. Back then, she still had her mother make all the decisions regarding Scotland. Back then, she had only been a foolish child. How she missed that simple time. How she missed being able to spend her days chasing Francis.

"We should be there in a fortnight," Sebastian said, pulling her out of her reverie.

She turned her head to him and he gave her a small smile.

"I said, we should arrive at Saint-Pol-de-Léon in a fortnight. There is a town an hour or two ride away from here where we can get something to eat. You must be famished," he repeated.

Mary found herself feeling relieved at the mention of food. She did not feel starving at that moment; but she knew that she would be when a meal was served.

They arrived in the small town of Houdan about two hours later. The sun was higher in the sky now, though it was clearly still morning. The people of Houdan were shuffling around, minding their usual business, though many stopped to look at them. Mary was clearly a lady, at the very least, and it was not a common sight in a small town like the Houdan.

They effortlessly found the local inn. They were greeted by a smiling man who had been alerted of their arrival by his son, a small boy, seemingly the same age as Charles or his one year younger brother Henry. The small boy stood shyly beside his father.

It was Sebastian who spoke with the man. Mary was more focused on the small boy who was smiling at her after he noticed her attention. She smiled back at him.

He walked up to her, carefully. "You are very pretty," he simply said.

Mary smiled brighter. "Thank you, what is your name?" she asked, curious.

"My name is Francis," he beamed, happy to have gotten attention from such a noble lady. Mary was taken aback. She was speechless. What were the chances of that small child to have the same name of the man that she wanted – no _needed – _to forget?

"What is your name?" the boy asked, innocently. Mary hesitated. Could she trust that it would be safe to tell the boy her real name? She was not sure. She was relieved that the boy´s father chose that moment to interrupt.

"Francis! I am so sorry, my lady. He does not know any better, please forgive us for offending you in that way," the inn owner said, obviously surprised of his son´s actions.

"Oh it´s quite alright," Mary assured him as she gave him a forced smile. She wanted to escape from the situation. She wanted to get away from the boy who reminded her so much of her _own_ Francis.

"My lady," Sebastian said, walking up to her, confusing Mary for only a moment.

"I have requested a room for you to rest in for a moment before a meal will be served for you." Mary nodded; this was the escape that she needed.

The owner led them up a narrow staircase, down a narrow hallway and stopped in front of a room at the end of the hall. He opened the door and waited for Mary to enter.

"My lady, I hope this room will be pleasurable enough for you. I am afraid this is the best I can offer. We are not used to such fine company," the man spoke, obviously flustered.

Mary smiled. "This is quite alright," she replied.

The man saw his cue to leave the two alone and disappeared back down the hallway. Sebastian entered her room and closed the door.

His voice was a mere whisper, speaking the words that were only meant for her ears to hear. "I told the owner that you are a lady, returning to Scotland from a visit to Queen Mary at the French court. If my father´s men or the English come looking for you, they won´t be able to trace you here."

Mary, surprised at the extent of his plans, nodded.

"What is my name then? I cannot simply say that it is Mary, as it would be too obvious," she asked.

"You could choose a common Scottish name," Sebastian offered.

Not having been in Scotland since age six, Mary found it hard to think of any names that she remembered as particularly common. After a moment she spoke.

"I believe my nursemaid as a child was named Agnes. I could use that." Both she and Sebastian smiled.

"That is settled then. I will leave you to rest; I will be just outside your room if you need anything." Mary started to object but Sebastian stopped her.

"After all, I am your guard," he added and left the room.

Mary looked around the room. It was small, though; any room would be compared to her rooms at the French court. The bed seemed comfortable enough and she walked to it. She had no clothes to change into, so she crawled under the covers still in her travel dress. She was immediately more comfortable than she had been in days it seemed. Even back at the castle, she didn´t seem to be able to get comfortable in Francis´ bed where she voiced her concerns, well, some of them, to him. She was much too tense.

Now, she was much too exhausted to care for all that had happened.

She knew that she would relive the happenings of the previous day over and over again for a long time. She knew that she could never really forget Francis, no matter how many years passed.

_Francis_, he was very last person she thought of before she found sleep.


	3. Chapter Three

Okay, I have a request. I decided to give you guys one more chapter today. I have decided that since not one of the more than 200 viewers (which I am very thankful for, don´t get me wrong) have reviewed, I have gotten an idea. If I do get comments on this chapter, I will upload **two **chapters tomorrow, if not, then I will only upload **one**. It is up to you. I hate to be the person to have to ask for reviews, but **please**, I would love to know what you actually think of this. Is it any good? Please, please, please, please... I have finished the fourteenth chapter now and working on the fifteenth. I really want you guys to read it :)

Oh, and before I forget, Reign won a People´s Choice Award! Awesome! This show certainly deserves it!

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**Chapter Three:**

It was no more than an hour later that Sebastian woke her up. He looked apologetic as he told her that she would need to eat now so they could leave again as soon as possible. They had many days travel ahead of them and they needed to get as far as they could while the sun was still up.

Mary nodded and noted for a moment that she had done that quite a lot since they left. She shook off the thought and rose from the bed.

She longed for a bath but knew that time was always running for them. She walked to the small mirror, checking her appearance. She couldn´t show anyone how awful she felt inside. As a lady, she had to look her best, at all times. A new dress would help greatly, but making sure her hair was decent would have to suffice. With no comb, she raked her hands through her untidy hair. Washing it would work wonders.

She sighed when she realized that she could do no better.

Silently, Mary and Sebastian made their way to the dining rooms of the inn. The owner was already there by a table already set with food. Compared to the feasts at the castle, this meal was a disgrace, but to Mary who had not eaten anything for more nearly a day, this was perfect.

She tried not to react when Sebastian stood in the corner while she ate. After all, he was supposed to be her guard.

Mary felt it was wrong to banish the King´s son from the table and degrade him to a simple guard, bastard or not. If they had been alone, she would have given Sebastian some of the food, but she knew the owner would be suspicious of them if she did. While they were running, Mary winced inwardly at the word; she and Sebastian needed to make as little commotion around them as possible.

The meal was delicious. Mary, growing up in a convent, had eaten porridge more times than she could count and was not a picky eater.

She made sure not to eat too much too quickly, aware that in her hurry to satisfy her hunger, she could end up getting sick.

When she was full, she rose from her chair and told Sebastian that he should eat while she readied herself for their travels. In truth, Mary had no way of readying herself any more than she already was but she knew that it was expected of the guard to wait until his Lady had finished eating before he himself could eat, no matter how hungry he was.

She went back to her room, waiting there until Sebastian returned. While she waited, only her thoughts could occupy her. Her thoughts always ended with Francis.

She could still hear his echoing cries as he yelled out her name. _"Mary! Please! Mary! Wait!"_ His words and his broken voice haunted her.

She was shivering when Sebastian returned. He crossed the room to her.

Before he could say anything, she rose from her place in the chair in front of the mirror.

_"Mary, you are frightened. Now is the time for courage."_ The words of King Henry reminded her that she needed to be strong. She could not keep crying. She was a Queen. As a Queen, she needed to be able to rule with a clear head. She needed to get through this journey and make it to Saint-Pol-de-Léon. She would write a letter to her mother to send for a ship to get her. She would go home to Scotland and this would all just be a memory.

She would figure out what to do when she was home. Her mother would not be pleased, she knew, but Mary was her Queen, and Marie de Guise would have to answer to her, mother or not.

Sebastian was surprised to see the troubled girl transform into the stubborn Queen that he had gotten to know.

Mary was determined again. She had found a goal. She was no longer just running.

"Where do you plan we settle for sleep tonight?" she asked, all sorrows of Francis and The Prophesy forgotten, if only just momentarily.

Hesitating for just a moment, Sebastian regained his composure. "Dreux is four hours ride away and Nonancourt is another three. We can make it to Nonancourt by nightfall and still rest for a few hours in Dreux," he replied.

While Mary had slept, he had received a map from the inn owner and created a route that would get them to their destination as soon as possible.

Mary nodded at his plan and with determination the two made their way to the horses. Francis, the little boy, was waiting for them already, holding the reigns of the horses for them.

"Thank you, Francis," Mary told him, smiling at him. She was resolute that she would not whimper or cry every time she heard or said the name for the rest of her life. She might as well start practicing now. She found, to her surprise, that it wasn´t as hard as she thought it would be.

The boy smiled at her, just like he had when they met. "Your grace, my father says I cannot ask, but what is your name? When I get married, I hope my wife will be as pretty as you are." Mary was delighted by the innocence of the boy.

He was too small, yet, to know why a boy of his status was not supposed to ask such questions of her, but she couldn´t find it in her to care. Not at the moment.

"My name is Agnes." She replied. She didn´t like lying to him, but she had to go with the plans that she and Sebastian had agreed to.

"Agnes, I like the name Agnes."

The boy handed her the reigns to her brown horse and handed Sebastian the reigns to his white one. With no more words they rode away from the town and Mary found herself looking back at the small boy who stood waving at her as if they knew each other.


	4. Chapter Four

My request worked, I see. Thank you for the reviews, it means more than you´d think. I was told that it was confusing to read before and I´ve tried separating the text... I hope it´s better now. It´s morning in Denmark so I will upload another tonight before I go to bed. Please review.

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**Chapter Four:**

Sebastian and Mary made it to Dreux four hours later, just like Sebastian had said they would. They rested for two hours, giving the horses much needed rest as well. They found some bread that they could bring with them, should they become hungry while traveling. They ate a little in the town as well, before riding off again. Just like in Houdan, the story was that Mary was Lady Agnes returning to Scotland with her guard. Nonancourt was appearing in the distance as the sun lowered in the sky. They went to the inn and Sebastian repeated the words that he had given the inn owner in both Houdan and Dreux. Both Sebastian and Mary got a room, his just across from her own, so she could easily find him if anything came up doing the night.

_Mary, back in Court, stood in front of Francis. The confused expression that lingered on his face the last time she had seen him, was changed into one of pure contempt. She found herself no longer tall as a Queen but a weak, young girl, completely at the mercy of Francis, the Dauphin of Francis. _

_"Please," she heard her own voice beg, but it sounded distant. Unnatural. _

_"Please, Francis, I beg you, I did not mean to leave you. Nostradamus said…" she begged. _

_"Spare me your excuses. I do not wish to hear them. You are a disgrace to this Court. I cannot marry a stupid woman like you. I want you gone. I don´t want to have to look at you anymore. You may have Scotland, but you have lost France. England will soon get word that Scotland no longer holds an alliance with France and they will attack. Without France, your country is doomed. Do you not see? You have thrown away your last chance of saving your country. Do you not see how foolish you have been?" Mary was lying at his feet, feeling foolish and unwanted, just like Francis had told her she was. _

_"Guards, take her away!" Francis ordered and Mary felt strong arms grab her, pulling her backwards out of the throne room. She screamed for Francis. _

_"Francis! Please! I love you! Please!" He merely laughed in her face as she was pulled away until she could no longer see him. _

Mary woke up, shaking and covered in sweat. She tried to breathe deeply to get her pulse back in control. The dream was too real. She still felt as though Francis had been standing right in front of her, telling her that he never wished to see her again. No matter how strong she had seemed this afternoon, no matter how determined she had been that she would no longer cry over Francis, she couldn´t hold back the tears as they poured down her cheeks. She slipped out from under the covers, feeling too hot to be able to stay in bed. She walked to the window. The moon, shining bright, was lighting up the dark sky, leaving her room in a grey light. She looked over the houses in the town. Where was Francis now? He must be sleeping? Did he miss her? Did he hate her? No matter how many times her mind tried to remind her of his words before she left _"Have you not heard a word that I´ve said, I love you"_ she could not help but be afraid that she had ruined that love. Did he still love her? Could he still love her? She knew that at this point, it did not matter, but she still found herself in need of comfort. The only one who could give that comfort to her here was Sebastian.

She slipped on the robe that the inn owner had lain out for her and crept out of the room. She crossed the hall and carefully opened the door to Sebastian´s room. Creeping inside before anyone could notice her, she closed the door. Sebastian woke up, hearing the sound of the door closing. Though it had not been loud, it had been enough for him to hear though his sleep.

"Mary?" he asked tiredly. "Is everything alright?" he asked, seeing her face in the dim light of the moon.

"I realize that this…this may be offending or…or inappropriate of me to ask…but…would it…would it be alright if…if I asked to sleep in here…I mean no offence…I just…sleeping alone…" she was flustered and embarrassed. Was this even an acceptable request? Would he refuse her and send her back to her room? Sebastian´s words stopped her rambling.

"Yeah…sure." He lifted his covers and allowed her to crawl into his arms. Though Sebastian heard his mother´s voice clearly _"Stay away from Mary. There is a thirst inside you for her"_, he shrugged them off. He knew that what Mary was asking at that moment was not for him specifically, but for comfort, by anyone who could give it. She wasn´t asking for his love, she was asking for his friendship. She crawled into his bed and snuggled close to his chest, seeking the warmth. With the warmth of Sebastian´s body beside her, Mary quickly found sleep and more rest than she had gotten in days. With the smell of her overpowering his senses and the feel of her warm body next to his, it took a little longer for Sebastian to fall asleep.


	5. Chapter Five

I just want to say thank you to the reviews that I have gotten, both from those with an account and those without - they mean a lot to me so keep them coming :D Thank you, thank you, thank you!

Also, I do not own Reign or any of it´s characters...

It´s 20 minutes past midnight here and I was on my way to bed (it´s friday, what the heck, I can stay up late, right?) and then I realized...I hadn´t uploaded the next chapter. So, here it is...Chapter 5!

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**Chapter Five:**

Mary woke up in the morning in a bed that did not recognize as the one she had fallen asleep in. She was confused, only for a moment, before she found Sebastian´s arms around her shoulders. For just a moment she had hoped them to be those of Francis, but she knew that was impossible. She would never feel those arms again. She took a deep breath before she carefully made her way out of his bed. As she stood and fixed her rope around her, she heard Sebastian stir lightly behind her, only for a moment, before finding sleep again. The sun was only just rising and it was still early. She hoped that the inn owner and his workers were still sleeping so she could make her way to her room unnoticed. What would they not think of her if they found her sneaking out of her guard´s room in the early hours of the morning? She thought back to the moment when she woke up in Francis´ room and how worried she had been that rumors would start between the servants that her bed was found empty in the morning. Francis had been so quick to assure her that it did not matter. They were engaged. They would be sharing a bed soon anyway. She shook her head, shaking the image of Francis, undressed, holding her just as bare body close. She felt the blood rush to her cheeks and the usual warmth of a blush on her face.

With a sigh, Mary made it to the door, making sure to open it with more care than she had the night before. She peeked through the small opening, hoping to find the hall empty. When she was satisfied, she sneaked out and closed the door, almost silently, behind her. She was in her own room and it looked like a completely different room that it had just the night before when they had arrived, though it was exactly the same. She grabbed the dress that she had worn for the past three days from the chair on which she had lain it the previous night. She placed her rope on the bed and tried her best to do the corset on her own, but failed. She would have to wait for Sebastian to help her, just as he had the night before. It had been embarrassing to ask for his help with such an intimate task, but without her ladies, she had no other choice. Sebastian too, had been flustered and she had felt his hand shake as he was loosening the strings. Mary was aware that it was no secret that Sebastian had bedded many a woman, so she was surprised of his reaction. Sebastian and his father had much in common in that particular area. Even Francis had bedded women before Mary and there was nothing secret about it. It was their right as royals, as men.

Sebastian entered her room, knocking of course, not even an hour later.

"I apologize for my behavior last night, Sebastian, it was inappropriate to enter your chamber at such an hour and ask for such a thing," Mary apologized. Left to her own thoughts, she had been reminded how wrong it had been for a woman of her status to climb into bed of a man, a man who was not even her fiancée. She supposed, she had no fiancée anymore, but that changed nothing. She was a Queen. She had to protect her reputation.

"Mary, it is alright. I told you to call me Bash, several times. You came for comfort because you had no one else, I understand."

Mary was relieved. "Thank you, _Bash_," she said, emphasizing the word "Bash" with a smile. "Thank you for being my friend, Bash," she added, making him smile as well.

"It is my pleasure to be called friend by you, Mary."

They rode for four hours, stopped at Verneuil-sur-Avre for two hours before continuing their journey. They stopped for the night at L´Aigle, another four hours ride away from Verneuil-sur-Avre. Mary slept in Sebastian´s arms again, having wakened from another nightmare about Francis calling her foolish and telling her that he no longer loved her. She knew it was wrong to ask this of Sebastian, but she could not find sleep without the comfort.

The days passed with the same tasks as the previous day. Mary and Sebastian rose early and rode until noon where they stopped to rest before riding until the sun would disappear for the night. By the 7th day since they left, they had made it to Barenton where stopped for rest around noon.

"You know, I have visited this town before," Sebastian told Mary as they walked around the town.

"Really?" Mary asked, surprised. She was often surprised at the liberty Sebastian had received compared to Francis. Sebastian would leave the French Court for days at a time if he wanted to. King Henry rarely denied him anything and Sebastian rarely asked for anything.

"Yeah, they have a beautiful lake not far from here," he told her.

"Can we go? If I am to return to Scotland and leave France for good, I would like to see as much of France as I can before I go."

Sebastian needed no more persuasion. He led her to the lake, a walk that took no more than half an hour. The lake was large, surrounded by trees on all sides. Flowers, more kinds than Mary could name, was growing in the forest floor. Colors, all kinds, were meeting in this beautiful place.

"I must say, you were right, this is absolutely astounding. It has been a long time since I have anything like it," Mary said, taken aback by the beauty of the place. Sebastian smiled at her as she smiled, her truly happy smile, for the first time in more than a week. Mary walked to the lake and cupped the clear water in her hands. She had seen nothing more than the rushed scenery they passed by during the days since they left. She had had no time to enjoy nature like she was now. For the first time since leaving, she felt truly happy.

Sebastian walked to her and she stood to look at him. "Thank you, Bash, thank you for showing me this place, it is truly…" she was cut off by Sebastian catching her lips with his own.


	6. Chapter Six

I am so sorry for not uploading this sooner, but it was my grandfather´s birthday and I haven´t been home the entire day - I only just got home an hour or so ago and is 10pm here now...

Anyway, I hope you like this :) and, because I have to say this: I don´t own Reign.

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**Chapter Six:**

His lips were moving against hers. She found herself unmoving for a moment, before she leaned into his kiss as well. Her mind was spinning and clouded. She was no longer thinking. It was as if she was drunk.

Her senses were slowly returning to her and she had to stop and push him away.

"Bash…we can´t…I can´t do this…"

Sebastian stopped, hearing her breathless whisper.

"I had had too much wine the last time this happened, and I realize that I can´t use that excuse now, but this was never my intention…I apologize if I did anything to lead you to believe that I could be interested in a relationship with you this way…You´re my friend and I will be forever grateful to you for all you have done for me, but I can´t offer you any more than that…" Mary was looking down as she spoke.

She had been aware of Sebastian´s feelings for her and she had pushed the boundaries of their friendship. She had led him to believe that she cared for him in a way that she could never let herself. Surely, he must know that she could never…that they could never be together…she could never marry him as she was a Queen and had to bring back a King and an alliance to her country.

Before Sebastian could say anything that she wasn´t sure she wanted to hear, no matter how much she knew it to be true, she spoke again. "Can we go back to town, I wish to rest."

The walk was silent and to Mary it seemed much longer. It seemed like there were times when Sebastian was about to say something, but changed his mind. Not a word was spoken, but the air was thick with tension and unspoken words. Mary had so many thoughts spinning around in her head. There was a part of her, she could not deny this, that wanted to kiss Sebastian and court him, _marry_ _him_, even, but there were no reason to allow that part of her to indulge in the pleasures. Nothing could ever come of it.

She was surprised that Sebastian had acted on his feelings toward her. At the festival, when they were at the lake, they had both been drunk and neither had the ability to think clearly. Surely, he had acted without thought when he kissed her this time. She knew Sebastian. She knew that he was all too aware of his status as a bastard born son of the King. She knew that while he received many liberties from his father, he was denied other things, things that he had yet to ask for. She, herself, was one of those things denied from him.

When they reached the inn, Mary entered her room with no words to Sebastian. What could she possibly say to him? She had told him what he needed to hear already.

Mary sat in front of the mirror and brushed her hair wish a comb that they had bought three days earlier. As payment for the inn owners and the people who gave them food, Mary had had to sell nearly every one of her jewelries. She supposed that she had no use for them while they were traveling and she would get new ones when she returned to Scotland.

Her long curly hair had lost the shine and beauty it had held when she was at the castle. The oils they used to add to her hair when washing it, was not a luxury she had anymore. Her complexion looked dull compared to the one that she had seen in the mirror at the French Court. Her skin was unclean and her usually soft hands were replaced with hardened ones with all the work that they had done. Her nails were dirty as well and she longed for a nice warm bath when she would reach Scotland. For now, she would have to do with the buckets of cold water and the same dirty dress that she had worn for a week. The skin around her eyes was darkening from the lack of sufficient sleep.

She supposed a short lie-down wouldn´t be too much to ask for before they would leave again. She went to her bed, not bothering to undress, and slipped under the covers.

"Mary, we must go now, we have to make it to Parigny by nightfall," Sebastian told her as he woke her. Those were the only words exchanged between them. Mary silently rose and seized her few belongings from the room.

The next morning, they rode from Parigny to Ducey before settling for the night in Macey. Neither Mary nor Sebastian had spoken more than the necessary words to each other, so when Mary felt weakened by the time she woke up in Macey on the ninth day after leaving; she said no words to Sebastian about it. Surely, she was just tired from all the traveling and her body needed to slow down.


	7. Chapter Seven

I´m kind of disappointed in the amount of reviews (or lack of) that I get on this story... Only 1 review out of nearly 200 views on the last chapter... I´m sorry that I have to be that person, but please review. From now on, I will upload two chapters on days where I get at least 2 reviews on the chapters...

Anyway, here is the seventh chapter

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**Chapter Seven:**

The ride was silent, as it seemed was custom for them now. Mary was trying her hardest to hold onto the reigns, but it seemed like she was losing all the strength to do so. Her body was telling her that she needed to rest, but her mind was telling her that they needed to make it to Plerguer before she could sleep. As she tried her best not to let Sebastian know that anything was amiss, she prayed silently that they would arrive early. By the time they did arrive, Mary was already half asleep. For days, she had had nightmares, but could not seek comfort from Sebastian, so she had gotten little sleep.

For the first time in days, Mary slept all night and was not plagued with nightmares of Francis hating her or Francis dying.

Mary found it hard to find even the strength to open her eyelids the next morning. How was she going to make it through six hours of riding? She didn´t know, but she forced herself to get up. As she stood, she had to fight off the blackness that was overtaking her eyes. She gripped the chair in front of her tightly, trying to stop herself from falling to the floor. When she was sure that it was over, she sat down. Should she tell Sebastian? She contemplated it for a moment, before coming to the conclusion that it would do no good. She needed to get to Saint-Pol-de-Léon as soon as possible. She had no way of ruling her country from where she was and until she was back in Scotland, her country lied in the hands of…she was not even sure. Would her mother rule for her? Would King Henry? What a horrible Queen she was. She was letting her country down by throwing away a seemingly secure alliance with a strong country like France and while returning home, disappears with no evidence of her surroundings, leaving the country in the hands of another. What kind of Queen does that? Would she even be welcomed in Scotland? She had let her people down terribly and she wouldn´t blame them if they hated her.

When Sebastian came to collect her, he found her in the chair with her head in her hands, her elbows resting on the table in front of her.

"Mary? Are you alright?" The words were the first sincere words he had spoken to her in days.

"I am a horrible Queen…" she cried, her voice mere whisper compared to her usually strong voice.

"Mary, look at me, please," Sebastian coaxed her.

She slowly lifted her head and through tear brimmed eyes, looked at him.

"Mary, you are a good Queen. You may not be there for your country right now, but you are doing what you believe is best for your country."

Mary shook her head. When she left the castle, she hadn´t even thought of her country. She had thought about herself and how she couldn´t lose Francis.

"I am not…My country was far from my mind when I chose to leave. I should have stayed. Francis might not even have died if I stayed. Nostradamus could have been wrong…he could have…" Sebastian cut her off.

"You don't believe that. You don´t believe that Nostradamus was wrong. He was right about other things. You know as well as I do, that if you and Francis were wed but he died before you would have any children, then you would be sent back to Scotland. You are sparing Francis. You love him too much to risk the chance of Nostradamus being wrong," Sebastian said, his voiced sincere.

Mary turned her body toward him and threw her arms around him. With her in his arms, Sebastian knew that he needed to say something, something that he should have told her days earlier.

"I am sorry, Mary, I shouldn´t have kissed you. I know that you love me, but I also know that you love Francis more than you could ever love anyone else. I know, that you know that you may get married but you will never find a love as strong as the one you have for Francis. I know that, that scares you. I know you Mary, and I reacted on emotions rather than intelligence. It was a moment of weakness, but I promise you, it will never happen again. Can you ever forgive me?"

When Mary pulled back from the embrace, Sebastian was searching her eyes for any signs of forgiveness.

"I forgive you, Bash, I forgave you days ago." She smiled weakly at him as she spoke.

She suddenly felt drained of all energy that she had mustered up until that moment. She wanted to sleep for days. However, she knew that they should get going.

"Will you be alright to ride today, Mary?" Sebastian asked, skeptically watching as she was lingering a little too long in his arms.

"Yes, I will be fine, just give me a moment. You can wait for me by the horses, I will come down." She gave him a smile, but Sebastian could see right through it. He was skeptic about letting her on a horse for six hours. Dinan was four hours away. Would she be alright to ride that far? He looked into her eyes and found so much determination in them and rose.

"I will see you then." With those words he left Mary to collect her thoughts and gathering enough energy to follow him.


	8. Chapter Eight

Thank you so much for the reviews! It was a nice surprise to wake up to - please keep it up!

For those asking, we will see Francis very soon, please just be patient - there´s a few things that I want to happen before I want him and Mary to reunite :D

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**Chapter Eight:**

For the entire four hour ride to Dinan, Mary had to clutch her reigns for dear life. She tried her hardest not to tighten her legs around the horse in effort to prevent falling off her horse. The reigns were the only thing holding her onto that horse and she had to fight the urge not to lean forward onto the horse. She knew that Sebastian was already very suspicious of her ability to ride further.

In Dinan, Mary slept at the inn for the entire time they were there. Sebastian was deeply worried for her health so when she woke after two hours, he told her that they should stay there for the night, even though it was only a few hours past noon.

"No, no, please, I feel much better. I simply needed to rest for a bit. I am sure that we can make it to Corseul. I believe you told me that it would only take two hours."

Mary did feel slightly better, but only just. They made it to Corseul while the sun was still relatively high in the sky.

Sebastian was still worrying about her as they made it to the inn, but Mary assured him that she was only tired. Sebastian was hesitant to believe her. He could see how she struggled to stay awake.

He talked to the owner of the inn and led Mary to the room that was assigned to her. She slept soundly throughout the night and just like the previous night, she had no nightmares.

When she awakened, she felt surprisingly rested and Sebastian could easily see the difference in the girl he had helped into bed the previous night and the girl who was eager to get going the next morning. He was laughing at her eagerness and they left the inn earlier than any of the other days.

The Mary who was riding beside him that day seemed like a completely different person than the one who had been leaning on her horse so as to not fall off the previous day. Still, Sebastian kept an eye on any difference in her demeanor.

They made it to Pléven with no troubles and Mary still seemed as healthy as she had been in the morning. She was eagerly talking about things she looked forward to see and do when she came to Scotland. She was telling him all the things she could remember from the first six years of her life as she lived there. She remembered her nursemaid Agnes clearly.

There was no questioning that Agnes had been dear to Mary. Agnes had been more like a mother to Mary that her own mother ever was. Mary remembered the times where Agnes would read her stories and tug her into bed. She wondered if Agnes would still be there. She would love to see the woman again. Mary had no idea how old the woman was or if she was even still alive, but she was already dreaming of meeting Agnes again.

They arrived at Lamballe and Mary was growing weary. She looked to be no more tired than Sebastian felt himself so he shrugged it off as nothing. They both ate their dinner, separately, and went to bed.

Sebastian fell asleep, relieved that Mary was no longer feeling weakened and wondered, if only just for a second, what had made her weak.

He knocked on her door in the morning, just like he had every day.

It was twelve days after they left and they still had another two days travel ahead of them.

He wondered, as he waited for her to respond, what he was going to do after Mary had sailed off to Scotland. He couldn´t go with her, as much as he wanted to. France was his home and he felt it would be wrong to leave. He found it questioning whether he would ever be able to return to the castle, even if his mother ever did get back into the good graces of his father again. Would Francis ever allow him to? Sebastian shook away the thought. He would worry about that later. For now, his goal was to get Mary safely to Scotland.

He waited patiently for her response and got none. He figured she would still be sleeping, so he entered to wake her, something he had done more than once during their journey. He found her, still sleeping peacefully in her bed. He walked to her bedside.

"Good morning Mary, you must get up now," he said, his voice gentle.

She never even stirred at the sound of his voice. She was usually a light sleeper; she would wake almost as soon as he entered her room on the other mornings.

"Mary?" He tried again and waited for her to wake. She would be confused of her surroundings for a moment and then reality would lower it´s cold grip around her and she would be forced to realize where she was, where she was going and what had happened.

For a moment, he considered if he should let her sleep longer. It would cost a few hours of additional journey, but she looked so peaceful in her sleep. She was never this peaceful in her waken state. Her young mind was always troubled when she was awake, not just now. That was her fate as a ruler.

Deciding that she needed to be awakened, Sebastian pressed a hand to Mary´s.

He pulled his own hand back quickly. Was her skin always that warm? He knew the answer. Still, he pressed a hand her forehead and found the same spiking temperature. She was definitely running a fever.

He hadn´t felt her skin in days, had she had a fever for long?


	9. Chapter Nine

As promised, I give you a second chapter today - after all, I did get six reviews on the last chapter :) Thank you so, so much - please, at least two reviews on this one, and I will give you two chapters tomorrow :D

For those asking when we will se Francis again, I think it´s just a couple of chapters from now... I´m not sure but I think it´s three chapters at most :)

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**Chapter Nine:**

The wife of the inn owner appeared in the doorway with a bucket of water. Sebastian had been shaken to find Mary in her feverish state so he went to the inn owner and told him of the situation. The inn owner sent his wife, a mother of five children, she was trained in taking care of fevers and illnesses.

She smiled as Sebastian as he looked at her upon her entry. She walked to the opposite side of Mary´s bed and placed the bucket on the floor. She placed a cloth in the cold water and wrung it before placing it on Mary´s forehead.

"Thank you, Madame" Sebastian said, sincerely.

He was no healer. He was a fighter, he had killed people but he had never healed them. He was at a loss of what to do. What was wrong with Mary? Would she be alright?

"Oh please, call me Anna, I am no Madame" she told him with a smile. Both were silent as they looked at the fragile queen in front of them. If only Anna knew that she was caring for the Scottish Queen. To Anna, this was a lady, clearly. It did not matter that her dress was unclean and worn. The way she held her head and walked with such grace was enough to convince even a simple woman like her.

Around noon, Mary seemed to stir. Sebastian grew relieved, only to find her coughing violently before falling back onto the bed. That was the point when her breathing changed. From calm and steady, it shifted into a slightly faster pace. Anna was soothing her and even though she was asleep, it seemed that Mary relaxed a little at the words.

"Has this only just started?" Anna asked when Mary was calm. Another cough shook Mary´s body, but it was not quite as violent as the first one.

"She was feeling weak a few days ago, I was worried. Yesterday she was fine though. She was eager to get back onto her horse. I don´t understand. What is going on?" Anna sighed.

"I suspect influenza, I´m afraid. She has not yet shown any signs of nausea, but I suspect it will come shortly." Standing up, she left the bucket by Sebastian´s side.

"Wring the cloth in the cold water once in a while. Her body will warm it up and the coolness will disappear. It has no healing effect on her; it is for her comfort alone." With those words, Anna left the room, promising that she would come back later.

With Anna gone, Sebastian felt as if he was about to cry. He knew that most cases of influenza were not deadly, but it could be. If complications were to rise…He would blame himself. He should have insisted that they continue riding to the nearest town on the first night. He should never have let Mary sleep on the cold and wet ground. He should have given her his cape. If only she would wake up. The only signs he had that Mary was still alive were the endless coughing and the ragged breathing.

"Your Lady should be just fine, sir. When her fever breaks, she should be getting better," Anna told him when she returned to Mary´s room.

Sebastian and Anna waited impatiently for the moment where her fever would break. Sebastian reached a point where he could no longer sit still. He rose from his chair and paced the floor of the room, glancing at the bed every once in a while.

Every time Mary whimpered or coughed, Sebastian would jump to her side, thinking that she would wake and every time he would be disappointed when she slipped back into her comatose state. When the sun was setting, Anna looked at Sebastian.

"You should get some rest, I will stay with her."

He wanted to object. He wanted to tell her that he was staying. He wanted to be firm and stubborn, like Mary, but he was too tired. His body might not have been working like it had the other days, but emotionally and mentally, he was exhausted. He was tired of waiting. He was tired of seeing Mary, pale and weakened, unmoving.

He sighed resignedly and returned to his rooms. In his sleep he was imagining all the worst case scenarios where he would have to tell his brother that Mary had died. He was imagining himself, holding her while she slipped away from him forever.

While he was sleeping, Anna stayed in Mary´s room. Though tired, she continually changed the cloth on Mary´s forehead and whispered soothing words to her.

The moon was shining bright when Mary did wake. It was only for a moment, her body heaving as she emptied her stomach for what little content was left. Anna had sensed the change in her and had another bucket ready.

When finished, Anna helped the groaning Queen back onto the bad and whispered soothing words to her until she was sleeping again.


	10. Chapter Ten

Thank you so so much for the reviews! You definitely deserve this chapter :D

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**Chapter Ten**

Entering her rooms the following morning, still very tired, having been kept up most of the night by horrible dreams, Sebastian was greeted by Anna who looked at him with a grave expression.

"She is dehydrated, sir. She isn´t waking up to drink and she is losing fluids because of the fever and the heaving. If the fever doesn´t break soon…"

Anna didn´t need to continue. Sebastian already knew where the conversation was heading at. Mary was slowly dying in front of him and unless he did something, he would have to be the one to tell his brother of her death. That was nothing he intended to do. He was not about to simply sit at her bedside and wait. He was not about to leave Mary´s fate based on pure luck. There was not a doubt in him, that Mary´s only chance was to get her back to the French Court where she could be treated by an actual physician and not just a land lady.

As he stood, taking the steps back to his own room, he realized that he could only hope that the letters would arrive in time and that, even if they did arrive, Francis still cared enough for her to send men to retrieve them. He could only pray that Francis´ pride wasn´t too wounded to send her much needed help. Mary´s only hope now was that Francis´ love was still strong enough.

He sat by his desk, retrieved a piece of parchment from a drawer and began scribbling.

_Brother,  
I realize that I no longer have any right to ask favors of you after I left the French Court. I am not writing to apologize though I know that I owe you. I am writing about Mary. She has fallen ill. We think it´s influenza but she is worsening by the minute. I know that she has hurt you by leaving, and I know that you may not care to see her._

_However, I know you Francis; I know that you love Mary and if you love her as much as I think you do, then please, send men to return Mary to the castle. We are in Lamballe. I don´t know if they will make it in time, but I beg of you to try. _

_Sebastian. _

With the letter in hand, he walked back into Mary´s room. Aware of Anna´s eyes on him, he opened Mary´s bag. Finding her royal seal, he sealed his letter and exited the room.

After a while, he succeeded in finding a man, going to Paris.

"Can you make sure this gets to the Royal Castle? It is important."

The man stared at the letter and then back to Sebastian, unsure if he should agree. If that letter contained a threat to the French Court, could he be punished for delivering it?

"I will give you gold. Please, it is of great importance that this letter reaches the French Court." Sebastian, sensing the man´s hesitance begged.

Even if this man refused to deliver the letter, he had to find someone who would. He dared not think about what could happen to Mary if he failed.

The man sighed. "Will I get in trouble for bringing this to the French Court?" the man asked.

Sebastian shook his head. "No, fear not, you will not be punished for bringing this letter. Please, will you do this?" he begged.

"How much gold will you give me?" the man asked, sighing. A part of him wondered why he even agreed to do this. He would do favors for his neighbors, but this man, he didn´t know. He figured that the extra gold would keep his family from starvation a little while longer.

Sebastian handed him what little gold he had on him. It was more than the man was expecting.

Without this gold, Mary only had two remaining jewelries to use as payment. Sebastian was unsure of how many days that would allow them to stay. How many days would Mary be ill? Were her days already numbered? No, he couldn´t believe that. He had to believe that the Queen would be stubborn and strong enough to fight this, no matter how bad it looked.

The man, pocketing the gold, reached for the letter and smiled.

"I will make sure the letter reaches the Castle," he said. Sebastian did not like the way he said it and worried for a moment if he could even trust the man. He had no other choice. This man was the only chance he had at getting help for Mary.

With little fluid left it her body, the fever not breaking and the continuous empty heaves, Mary was still ill a week later. She had woken up once. It was only for a few minutes, but it was what Sebastian needed. He needed to hear her voice.

_It had been morning. It was on the fifteenth day after they left the French Court. Sebastian was staring out of the window, wondering, like he spent most of the days doing, if the letter would reach the castle; if Francis would send any men. _

_He was, for once, not focusing on Mary´s still body in front of him. _

_She started to stir, like she had many times before, only to fall back into her slumber. She opened her eyes, blinking in attempt to adjust to the light. She was not sure how to word how she felt. She felt something on her forehead and attempted to remove it only to have a woman keep it there. She was confused. _

"_Lady Agnes, please, you should let the cloth be," the woman told her. _

_Agnes? What did she mean? Who was this woman and why was she calling her Agnes? Mary, in her confusion, was sure that she had seen the woman before, but she could not remember when or where. _

_Realizing that a second person was in the room, she turned to him. She could recognize Sebastian anywhere. _

"_Bash…" she was surprised at the weakness of her voice. "Where are we?" She asked. _

_Sebastian, startled to hear her voice, though strangely weak, it was so clearly hers, turned his head to face her. _

_He grinned happily. "Oh Mary, you´re awake," he gasped and had to fight the urge to lean down and embrace her. _

_It was only when he had spoken that he realized that he had called her Mary and not Agnes. _

"_Mary?" the woman asked, confused._

"_Yes?" Mary asked, turning her attention away from Sebastian. _

_Anna, not knowing what to think, looked to Sebastian. With his eyes, he pleaded with her to wait with any questions till Mary was asleep. He could only hope that she had understood. It seemed like she had, when the woman turned back to Mary. _

"_Mary, you have a fever, you have been terribly ill. I will get you something to drink, and you should rest." Anna rose and disappeared from the room. Sebastian sat closer to her._

"_I´m sorry, Mary," he told her. "I should have taken better care of you; I should have kept a closer eye." _

_Mary smiled at him. It wasn´t her usual warm smile, but it was a smile none the less. "Oh Bash, you shouldn´t blame yourself. You couldn´t have prevented this. You couldn´t have known that I would get ill." _

_Anna returned then with a cup of water for the young Queen. _

"_Thank you," Mary told her as she sighed, finding relief from the thirst. She placed her head back on the pillow and closed her eyes. _


	11. Chapter Eleven

So finally, it´s here! Francis´ POV! Yay! Chapter Eleven is hereby yours to read and review on :D

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**Chapter Eleven**

He was restless as he turned in his bed, trying to find some peace. Why did it have to be so hard for him to sleep? It had been like this for days. In truth, it had been this way since Mary had left a week earlier. He had felt, just for a moment, what it was like to wake up with her in his arms, for her to be truly his, and it had been ripped from his grip just as a quick as it had come to him in the first place.

He knew that he was being childish, acting like a silly boy with a broken heart. He had to pull himself together. Mary had obviously made her choice, and while he didn´t want to believe that she had wanted to leave him, all evidence showed differently. She had left on her own will. He needed to move on with his life, get over her, if he was to have any hope of being a good king someday.

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His head was pounding and the sun that broke through the curtains certainly wasn´t making his hangover any better. He wasn´t about to admit it to anyone, but the amount of wine that he would drink at the evening feast had increased by many glasses over the last week. He woke up each day, regretting that he drank so much the previous night, but as the day wore on, he was reminded of the absence of Mary´s presence everywhere he looked, and drinking was the only way to keep him from insanity.

* * *

Just as he was about to get up from the bed to get dressed, he heard his page knock on the door. "Enter," he commanded, surprised at how rough his voice was. He cleared his throat as the page entered, seemingly nervous.

"A letter has arrived for you, your grace," the boy stuttered as he held out a letter.

Francis shrugged, grabbed the letter from the boy´s hand and threw it onto his bed without giving it a second glance. It was most likely just another lord, offering his daughter to him as it had been public knowledge by now that the engagement between him and Mary was broken and he was again eligible for marriage.

He dismissed the page and finished dressing before going to the throne room to meet with his father. He was by no means looking forward to the meetings that he had with his father after Mary left. King Henry was furious. Not only had Mary broken an alliance, but she had also left the French Court without protection. No matter how little Henry cared for her at the moment, she was, as long as she was in France, his responsibility and he had Mary´s family pressuring him to find her and return her to safety. For a week now, he had had his guards searching through every nearby town to look for her. For a week now, they had come back to court daily with the same news: Mary was nowhere to be found.

As Francis entered the throne room, he was met with the same frown from his father that he had by now grown used to. "Francis, there you are."

"Any news?" Francis asked. Every day he told himself not to be hopeful and every day he failed. He was growing accustomed to the disappointment and the fear in the pit of his stomach that came with the shake of his father´s head in response to his question. Today was no different.

"How far can that silly little girl have gotten on her own?" The king was frustrated. He was frustrated that he had Mary´s family pressuring him. He was frustrated that his useless guards never found her. He was frustrated that Mary had broken the alliance. Most of all, he was frustrated the he had lost Scotland and with it, the claim to England. He felt powerless, and he swore to himself, that no one would ever get away with making him feel that way – Queen or not. If he ever saw Mary again, he would not only force her to lay claim to England and marry his son, but he would make sure that her life would not be an easy one at the French Court.

"She wasn´t on her own," Francis muttered. His voice was filled with betrayal. His own _brother_ had been the one to take Mary from him. His own _brother,_ who had been his best friend growing up, was the one to steal her away.

"No, she wasn´t, was she?" Francis didn´t like the way his father said those words. There was no doubt that Sebastian had lost the role as the King´s favorite son. He almost felt sorry for his brother. Almost.

* * *

When he returned to his rooms that night, following hours of meetings with his father and the council, he was exhausted. He wanted nothing more than to crawl under those covers and be dead to the world for a few hours. He wanted to escape from everything that he was feeling. He wanted to escape from the mixed feelings that he could never sort out. He was hurt and betrayed that Mary would leave him. As much as he wanted to deny it, to say that she meant little to nothing to him now, he felt scared, no terrified, to know that Mary was out there and no one knew where she was.

He shook off the thoughts and shed his clothes, landing in a pile on the floor, and crawled into bed. That was when he noticed the letter that he had received that morning. A part of him wanted to throw it away and forget all about it, but he knew that he had to read it – even if it was only a marriage proposal from some rich lord who wanted to rise in status and power.

He grabbed it, but before he could open it, his eyes landed on the seal and suddenly he knew why the page had been so nervous. The seal was obviously the royal seal of Scotland, the one that he could easily recognize as Mary´s.

His heart was beating faster in his chest instantly. He willed for himself to calm down, but no matter what, nothing helped. With shaking hands, he ripped the letter open to find a parchment with his brother´s writing on it.

* * *

With hurried steps and his heart painfully beating against his ribcage, he headed for his father´s rooms. For once, he could be sure that he would be there, no longer having a mistress in Diane and Kenna. Francis didn´t know what had happened and he couldn´t find it in him to care. He didn´t bother to knock and ignored the page´s protests as he barged into the room, finding his father by the bed, only wearing his night clothes.

"Lamballe, she´s in Lamballe," Francis said, his voice sounding breathless as he waved the letter at his father.


	12. Chapter Twelve

Here is the next chapter... I would have uploaded it earlier, but my computer was being a jerk and wouldn´t let me...

By the way - you broke my personal record of reviews on a story - the previous record was 38! Thank you so, so much!

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**Chapter Twelve:**

It had been days since Mary had been awake. Since then, she had only gotten worse. She was constantly shaking and coughing. Sebastian found it hard to watch. He couldn´t make himself leave her side. He was sure that this was it. He was going to lose Mary. He was going to lose her and she was never his to lose in the first place. He had to be with her if she died. If she was dying, he didn´t want her to be alone at any time.

Anna returned to the room with a cup of water. She curtsied at him before she went to Mary´s bedside. She had been horrified to know that Sebastian was really the bastard son of the King and Mary was the Queen of Scotland. She was horrified at her behavior toward them.

* * *

"_If you don´t mind me asking, why did you call Lady Agnes, Mary?" Anna had asked after Mary had slipped back into unconsciousness. _

_He knew that he could easily tell her to stay out of his business, but he knew that he owed this woman at least some explanation with all she was doing for him and especially for Mary. _

"_Her name is Mary. She is the Queen of Scotland, daughter of King James V. I was helping her get to Saint-Pol-de-Léon so she could go back to Scotland," Sebastian explained. He wasn´t sure if he had said too much, but he needed to talk to someone. Of course, he could not tell this woman the whole truth. Who knows who she would tell? _

"_But Queen Mary is engaged to Dauphin Francis, is she not? Why is she leaving the country?" Anna only had to look at Sebastian to know that she had overstepped her boundaries. _

"_I apologize. I should not have asked. Forgive me," she begged._

* * *

Anna leaned by Mary´s head. She carefully lifted the sleeping Queen´s head and helped her to drink some of the water. They needed to keep her hydrated. She placed her hand onto the young Queen´s forehead. She was surprised to find it slightly cooler than it had been.

"Lord Sebastian," she said, gaining the attention of the distracted man.

"I think her fever has broken. She should be getting better soon." Anna was smiling brightly and Sebastian joined her.

"Thank God," he breathed. He looked at Mary, almost as if he was expecting her to wake up immediately.

As if sensing this, Anna shook her head. "Give her a day or two and she should wake up."

* * *

Anna had been right in the end. It had taken another day before Mary had woken up.

She opened her eyes to find Sebastian by her bed. He grinned at her, having waited for this moment for nearly a day.

"Well, hello, your grace, nice of you to join us," Sebastian teased, making Mary smile, a genuine smile.

"It is my pleasure," she replied. She meant for it to be a tease but with the cough that quickly followed her words, it made it sound pathetic to her ears.

Sensing the change in her, he leaned close and held her. "It is alright Mary, you´re still ill. The fever broke and you should get better quickly," Sebastian comforted her.

"Do you promise?" she sounded like a child, the strong woman that he knew was hiding away for the moment.

"I promise," he smiled at her. He had never seen her like this. He never thought the fierce Queen had this side of her.

"Good, because I really don´t want to spend more days sleeping," she grinned, teasingly. This was the Mary he knew.

"Oh you finally think that nine days was enough?" Sebastian teased.

"Nine days? Have I really been sleeping that long?" Mary asked, surprised.

Suddenly she felt bad. If she had not gotten ill, they could have been in Saint-Pol-de-Léon a week earlier. She really had a way of leaving a mess in her wake, just like Francis had told her. It seemed like too many troubles could be traced back to her.

"What is it, Mary?" Sebastian asked, sensing the sudden change.

"I am sorry Bash; I have caused so many problems for your family. I have been too careless and your family is paying the prize."

Sebastian sighed. "You, Mary, are not the source of the troubles my family is struggling with. You happen to be just as much as a victim as them, if not more so. You cannot blame yourself," he told her, placing two fingers under her chin and forced her to look at him.

Mary just smiled slightly, deep in thought. She wasn´t sure if she should believe his words but he had spoken them so sincerely.

She looked at him, as if remembering something. "You never told me why you left."

Her words surprised him. He had hoped that she had forgotten. He wasn´t sure that Mary would understand his mother´s actions, but he knew that he owed her an explanation, especially after she confided in him.

"My mother inquired about having me legitimized." He waited for a moment, expecting a reaction from her, but she kept calm and collected. It was impossible for Sebastian to read what was going through her mind. He knew that she had many questions that she wanted to ask, but she waited patiently for him to continue.

"Somehow Catherine got word of it and blackmailed my mother into leaving before she found a way to tell my father. My mother warned me and told me that I had to leave. I headed for the stables and found you…" he trailed off.

Mary nodded. So many thoughts were running through her head. "And what are your thoughts on this…legitimization?" she asked.

The question was simple but important. If Sebastian had wanted to be legitimized and thereby overthrow Francis, she wasn´t sure if she actually knew the man in front of her. The Sebastian she knew was content being the King´s bastard born favorite.

"I asked her not to go through with it. I don´t want my brother´s job. I am not fit to be a king. Francis has been trained for the job since he was a child." Sebastian didn´t need to say anymore. She was assured that Sebastian meant no harm to Francis, even if he could return to the French Court.


	13. Chapter Thirteen

Here it is - the thirteenth chapter :) I hope you enjoy it :D

I just want to give a shoutout to the-true-mockingjay :D You are awesome for reviewing on every single chapter! I also want to thank everyone else who reviews - you guys are awesome!

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen:  
**"I am feeling much better, why can´t we continue to Saint-Pol-de-Léon now?" Mary asked, growing impatient.

It had been another week at the inn in Lamballe and Sebastian had insisted that she was still unfit to ride. Although she still felt nauseous at times and coughed, she was sure that it was safe enough to travel. Every time she even suggested it, Sebastian had told her no immediately.

Something had changed and she wasn´t sure what it was. If she didn´t know better, she would think that he was waiting for something…someone. She knew it wasn´t a possibility. No one knew where they were.

None the less, something was bothering Sebastian and Mary knew that it wasn´t her health. She had been bettering for days now, the fever was long gone.

"If we left now, we could be in Saint-Pol-de-Léon by tomorrow night," Mary hinted. She had been doing this for days now.

It seemed to her like Sebastian wasn´t even listening. His attention was locked on the window, seemingly searching the roads below or waiting for something to come.

Mary sighed. "Bash, did you hear me?" she asked, trying again to gain his attention.

"I wrote to him." Though he wasn´t looking at her while he spoke, she knew who he was talking about.

"What?" The word slipped from her tongue, before she could stop herself. Four small words brought so many questions with them.

Sebastian turned to face her. The only word Mary could put to the look on his face as he looked at her was _sympathy_. For a moment, she was angered. What did he know about the situation he was putting her in? He had no right to be sympathetic. He should be ashamed. He should be guilty.

"I wrote to Francis," he repeated. His gaze never left hers. She wanted to speak, holding back many words, but waited for him.

"You were ill. I thought you were dying. You _were_ dying, Mary."

He offered her no more explanation and Mary refrained from asking. It all made more sense now. They _were_ waiting. Francis´ men would be there soon, Mary supposed.

She offered him only a nod in response. She was not sure whether she should be glad that Sebastian had done what he thought was the only way to save her, or mad that he had written to Francis, knowing about the Prophesy.

Many thoughts were running through her head and she tired quickly from trying to sort through them. With few words, she asked Sebastian to leave her room. She needed to rest, though she knew she would find no such thing now. One thing was clear to her as she let the tears fall freely from her eyes. If Francis found her, all her efforts to save his life, her running, would have been in vain. Francis would demand answers. He would demand to know why she would leave, on their wedding day, no less, when she claimed to love him. She was unsure if she could tell him about the Prophesy. What was the point, really? He wouldn´t believe her. He wouldn´t be able to understand how she could believe such superstitions. No, she had no choice. She could not go back to the castle.

* * *

She planned it all. She would leave in the morning, before anyone was awake. She would leave a note to Sebastian, apologize to him. She would leave a note to Anna; thank her for her kindness and care. She would take Sebastian´s map and sneak down to her horse. She would make it to Saint-Pol-de-Léon on her own. There was no other way.

For the rest of the day, she stayed in her room. She pretended to be sleeping when Sebastian or Anna would knock on her door, and they did, several times. She did sleep, for a few hours at least.

When night came and she was sure that the entire household was sleeping, she got up from the spot in her bed. She crept slowly into Sebastian´s room and was relieved to find him sleeping in the bed. Searching for the map in the darkness proved to be more difficult than she had imagined, but she did find it. With little noise as possible, she made her way back to her room.

While she waited for the sun to show up from behind the mountains in the horizon, she occupied herself with her thoughts. Would her plan work? Could she make it to her destination on her own? Would Sebastian go after her?

Of course he would. He would charge after her the moment he realized that she had left.

Her plan had to work. It had to.

* * *

Slowly, but steadily, the world around her gained lightness and colors. She knew that now was time to go. Her letters to Sebastian and Anna were already written and placed neatly on the desk.

Taking a deep breath, she gathered all her strength and courage, she left the room. For a moment, just a short one, she wondered if she was foolish to leave like this. It was only a moment before all the images of Francis dying in her arms, the images she had seen so many times in her nightmares, reminded her.

Making as little noise as possible, she made her way to the stable. She found her horse with ease and saddled up. She had done this very few times before and was not completely sure that she was doing it right. It didn´t matter, she reasoned. It would have to do.

Just before she was about to climb her horse, she felt a strong hand grab around her arm.

"Where do you think you´re going?"


	14. Chapter Fourteen

I am so so sorry for not putting this up earlier - I got up too late and didn´t have time to do it before school as I usually do... then I had a long day at school and didn´t get out before 40 minutes ago and then I had a Math assignment to finish... I know... excuses, excuses...

Anyway, I hope you like it :D

One more thing, since I have uploaded so many chapters and I haven´t written more than sixteen and a half chapters, I will only upload one chapter a day from now on - just so that you don´t end up having to wait for me to finish writing a chapter at some point. I hope you´ll still review though :)

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen:**

Mary had endured too many attempts at her life. _Poisoning. Rape. Pagans. A knife held by a dying Italian count._ She reserved every right to be frightened when suddenly touched by the strong hands of a man. For just a moment, fleeting as it was, she thought that she was going to die.

She realized then, in that fleeting moment, that the reason for her survival of the previous attempts to kill her was not herself. She was always saved; it was never herself. The poison had killed her taster before she herself could become its victim. The rape had failed when she had been warned by Clarissa. Sebastian had saved her from the death threat the Pagans were posing and Francis had cut of Count Vincent´s hand before the knife could do her any harm. Catherine had poisoned the guards so that the count no longer had any protection. Yes, she had been the one to stab the count in the throat before he could take her virtue and destroy her, maybe even kill her, but had it not been for Catherine and Francis, she was unsure if she had made it out of that room alive.

Upon that realization, she had never felt more fragile, weak, exposed.

"_Where do you think you´re going?"_ It was Sebastian´s voice. The steady voiced was laced with emotions anger, betrayal, and worry.

The familiar voice calmed her tense muscles instantly. She turned to him. To say that she was surprised would not suffice in describing what she was feeling.

"Bash." She tried to steady her voice, to make it seem casual. He was not buying into it though.

"What were you thinking? Going off on your own? Do you have a death wish?"

Mary looked at her feet. She was ashamed. She knew that Sebastian was right. She had been stupid to believe that she could make it on her own. She had acted on impulse. If she had, just once, thought about what she was doing with a clear head, she would have realized the same thing.

It was over. She could no longer run. Her efforts, though many, had failed. No matter how much she wanted to beg Sebastian to leave with her while they still could, she could no longer find the strength to. She was tired. She was tired to running. She was tired of nightmares and nights without Francis by her side. She had gone years without his arms holding her as she slept, but one night was enough to know that she never wanted to be without it.

She missed him terribly. Her Francis. Her beloved Francis.

She wanted nothing more at that moment to have the arms that comforted her now be those of Francis. She wanted to look into his blue eyes and see the love in them.

"Francis." The word, always the same word, was repeated on her lips until Sebastian had carried her back to her bed and she found sleep.

* * *

He had heard her in his rooms the night before. At first, he had thought that she had come for comfort, a thing that she hadn´t done in several days, not since their kiss.

He had been confused to find her looking for something, desperate not to make any noises. It was then that he had realized what she was planning to do. He should have known that she would make one last attempt at running.

He had sighed as she left his room and wondered for a moment if he had made a mistake by telling her about the letter. Mary was too stubborn for her own good and it had caused her problems at the French Court more than once. Had she learned nothing? He wanted to yell at her when he had caught her in the stable in the morning. He had wanted to tell her how much she had risked.

He had found her crying in his arms before he even had the chance to say what he wanted.

* * *

She had barely been awake when he had carried her to her room. She had stayed awake up for the greater part of the night and her body was still recovering. He had stayed by her side long after she had fallen asleep.

Was he worried that she would run again? No. Not any longer. She was drained, emotionally and physically.

As he sat there by her bed, lost in his own thoughts, hours seemed to pass by, though he couldn´t be sure. It was late afternoon when there was a knock on the door. Expecting it to be Anna, he absentmindedly told her to enter.

"My Lord, there is a man, who wishes to see you." Anna´s nervous voice made Sebastian turn to her. He nodded and got up from his seat.

As he looked out of the window facing the road, he was greeted with the sight of a carriage, several horses and several guards.

Francis had gotten his letter.

When he turned to the door he saw that Anna had already left, hurrying downstairs to take care of the many new guests. He only made it one step into the hall before he was met with the sight of his half-brother.

"Sebastian." The voice made his blood run cold. Sebastian took a step toward him, but before he could speak, apologize, explain, Francis´ fist collided with his jaw.

* * *

Mary opened her eyes, slowly. For a moment she was wondering how she had gotten back to her bed. The last thing she remembered was standing in the stable with Sebastian. It dawned on her then, sinking heavily onto her shoulders. Her plans had failed. She had given up.

It was strange how long time it took for her to realize the pressure of another hand holding her own. Maybe it was because of how familiar she was with that specific touch.

She turned her head to face the owner of the hand, but she already knew who it was. The blue eyes bore into her brown ones and her gaze faltered.

He didn´t have to speak any words to show her how hurt he was.

Something about the way he looked at her, told her that now was not the time for talking so she kept quiet. She kept all the things she wanted to say to herself and he didn´t offer any words to her either.

The warmth of his hand holding her own never left her though. He stayed by her side, silent, thoughtful. She tried not to make any noises as the tears, one by one, escaped her eyes. It didn´t matter. Francis didn´t look at her as she whimpered softly.

They were strangers, then; strangers who loved each other but strangers none the less. Too much hurt between them and too many secrets was left unsaid.


	15. Chapter Fifteen

Thank you so much for your reviews - I cannot express to you how much it means :D Here is today´s chapter - hope you enjoy it :)

* * *

**Chapter Fifteen:**

Sebastian jumped back, rubbing his sore jaw. He tried to suppress a groan.

"That was for letting Mary leave. What were you thinking?!" Francis furiously yelled.

"She was going to leave on her own. Was I supposed to let her leave by herself?" Sebastian tried to control his temper. He understood his brother´s fury, but he also thought that he deserved some kind of respect, no matter what had happened between them.

"No, you were supposed to stop her! Talk some sense into her!"

Sebastian shook his head. "You don´t get it. She would have left, no matter what I told her," he tried to reason.

"Why? It seems that she listens to you often enough. Did you even try?" Though his words were not yelled, they had a harsh underlying meaning. Sebastian decided to let it go, for now. His brother was hurt and angry. He was saying things that he normally wouldn´t have. When Sebastian didn´t answer, Francis sighed.

"Where is she? I want to see her." It wasn´t a request, it was an order.

* * *

She was sleeping peacefully, but Francis could easily see the pain hidden in her features. Her skin was pale and her cheeks sunken in slightly. Francis was sure that she was suffering.

He stood frozen, looking at her, all kinds of thoughts running through his mind. Could he handle losing her for good? What if she died?

He hadn´t heard Anna enter the room, so he was surprised when she spoke with gentle words.

"She is recovering nicely, Your Grace."

He turned to her and nodded, grateful. He needed to hear those words because, as he looked at Mary in the bed, he was not convinced at all. With Anna´s words in mind, Francis sat down in the same chair that Sebastian had occupied only minutes earlier. With hesitance, he took Mary´s hand in his own and, before he could stop himself, brought it to his lips, placing a gentle kiss on the back on her hand.

* * *

Giving the guards a day to rest, Francis arranged for their return to the French Court the following day. Mary had only seen him the half hour he sat in her room. No words had been shared between them and Mary found it hard to think. Would he ever talk to her again? Would she be arrested at Court for treason? What was her future going to be like if she returned to the castle, even if she didn´t get arrested? Would she still be engaged to Francis? Would the alliance be broken?

There was no way of keeping track of all the different outcomes her mind was creating. She was lightheaded just thinking about it.

Mary slept nearly the entire day away. When she finally woke, it was dark.

Lying there, alone in her room, she was left wondering how she had found the energy to get up just that morning. She was exhausted and overwhelmed with nausea.

She wanted to find the energy to stand, find Francis so she could talk to him, even though she had no idea what she would say. Even if she could find him, she didn´t know if he wanted to talk to her.

She could hear the talk and laughter of the men downstairs. It was strange, hearing so many people in the inn when, in the entire time they had stayed there, Mary and Sebastian had been the only guests.

It was impossible to distinguish any specific conversations, and even if she could, her head was pounding hard. All she wanted to do was go back to sleep.

* * *

It was already morning when she woke again. Anna entered her room, curtseying before helping her dress. No words were shared before Mary was fully dressed. Anna was about to leave the room before Mary stopped her.

"Anna." Her voice was barely above a whisper, hoarse from sleep. She cleared her throat as Anna turned to face her.

"Thank you for your help. You have been more than helpful. I can never fully repay you," Mary spoke, her voice stronger now.

"I am just glad that I could help, your grace," Anna replied, respectfully.

The two women made their way downstairs, Mary leaning on Anna. They were met at the foot of the stairs by the guards, though; neither Francis nor Sebastian was anywhere to be seen. A guard took over for Anna and half-carried Mary the rest of the way to the carriage.

With the carriage occupied by Mary and a nursemaid who tended to her, Francis and Sebastian were to ride on horses back to the castle. It was before noon when they took off from Lamballe. Before leaving, Francis gave Anna a bag of gold, no doubt more than she thought she´d ever see. No matter how much Mary had hurt him, he needed to give a proper thanks to the woman who saved her life. There was not a doubt in him that Mary wouldn´t have survived without her care. After all, people _died_ of influenza.

Anna had stared at him, in deep awe, before dropping to her knees in front of him with tears streaming down her cheeks. Yes, the gold was definitely more than she had ever seen before.

Though they rode right next to each other, neither Francis nor Sebastian spoke for a long time. They listened to the laughing and chatting guards and the quiet murmurs from the carriage. It was all they could do to stop themselves from going insane. The guards were making a bet of some sort. Francis was not really listening. He was too preoccupied with his thoughts. He needed to talk to Sebastian, desperately, and preferably before they reached the French Court, but a talk like the one they were to have, was not one to be had in front of several guards; guards who would gossip openly with the servants back at court. No, they had to wait.

A lot had happened while they were away and it would be no surprise that Sebastian was no longer the King´s favorite son. Not after he had escorted the Queen of Scotland on her run instead of making her see logic. Francis wasn´t even sure that he could guarantee his brother´s safety when they got back. If the king thought that Sebastian had in any way contributed to the reasons for Mary´s departure and the breakage of the alliance between France and Scotland, he would no doubt be charged with treason and be punished, if not executed. The thought itself made Francis shiver with horror.

He may hate his brother´s actions, but could he actually let his father kill him for them? Would he even be able to do anything about it?


	16. Chapter Sixteen

Here is the sixteenth chapter - I hope you like it :) Please, please review and tell me what you think...

If you´re a fan of Teen Wolf, please check out my new one-shot, "Pathetic, Really" - it´s about Cora and Isaac.

* * *

**Chapter Sixteen:**

They reached an inn late that night, the sun had already set. They had found another inn earlier, while the sun was still up, but Francis had pushed them to go further. The earlier they were back at the castle, the better.

The guards had already gone inside and taken Mary to a room to sleep for the night. Sebastian was about to follow them inside, when Francis pulled him aside. They stayed by the horses, away from any curious ears.

"We need to talk." Francis had said, spitting the words out through clenched teeth. He was surprised by his own anger, but he supposed that it was because he had been holding back any emotion all day.

Sebastian simply nodded, not at all in any position to argue with his younger brother.

"You will find that things have changed at court," Francis started, having calmed himself down enough to at least be civilized.

He could not afford for guards to come look for them and they most certainly would, swords drawn, if they heard yelling. No, he had to keep himself in check and he could only hope that Sebastian would be able to do the same.

Sebastian nodded in response, waiting for Francis to go on.

"Father is furious, no, he is beyond that. Because of yours and Mary´s actions, both France and Scotland have been put in difficult positions. Mary may have left, but we still have a signed alliance. Mary´s family is trying their best to bargain with both Father and the Pope. They have given their word to send Mary back to France, should she show up in Scotland. The Pope is rethinking the engagement as he is losing confidence in it. Father is manic to have lost Scotland and with it, the claim of England."

Francis stopped for a moment. He had heard the words several times over the previous weeks, though, they became much more real as he said them out loud.

As he looked at Sebastian, he couldn´t read the expression he wore. Was it shame?

Francis couldn´t be too sure, and honestly, it didn´t matter. What his brother thought or felt didn´t matter. Not now. Not in this situation.

"Diane has left, though, I suspect you knew that already," searching for any clues on his brother´s face, Francis found that he was right. There was no surprise or worry on Sebastian´s features.

"He is not happy with you either. He thinks that you had something to do with the reason why Mary left and I cannot tell him that he is wrong. _I_ don´t even know why you and Mary left."

He didn´t need to say more, Sebastian, having grown up in court, knew the dangers of the situation he had gotten himself into.

The men were silent for a moment. Both their minds were in overdrive.

"Was it worth it? Was leaving really worth the risk of punishment?" His question was serious, but his voice was softer than it had been just before.

"I couldn´t let her go alone. She wouldn´t have made it by herself out here," Sebastian replied.

Francis nodded.

"No. I don´t dare think what would have happened to her, had she been alone," he agreed.

Mary may be strong and courageous. She may not have grown up within the safety of a royal court, but she was in no way competent enough to survive in the outskirts of France and no one expected her to be.

Now that the thoughts had been planted in his head, he was imagining her, scared and alone in the woods somewhere. He tried to shake off the images and the thoughts, but it only got worse. He needed to be alone. He couldn´t let his brother, never-the-less his men, see him break down like he was now. With no other words to Sebastian, he went to his room.

They continued their travels the following day. It was the same as the day before. No words were shared; they were all listening carefully to any noise from the carriage. Even the guards seemed to be less talkative, which came as a surprise to Francis. He had wanted nothing more than for them to shut up when they were traveling to Lamballe but now, he wanted them to distract him from his thoughts.

Sebastian could feel the pit in his stomach grow as the castle came into sight days later. He wasn´t about to show it on his face, but he was frightened. There was no telling what would happen once he was past those wooden doors. He suspected that he would be thrown into the cellars as soon as the guards got their hands on him. He couldn´t blame his father for wanting to do that. Had Catherine told him about the legitimization? He honestly couldn´t see the point. Why would Catherine want to put the King under more pressure than he already was? No, if he was put into the dungeon, he couldn´t blame his mother or the Queen. This was all his own doing.

He was surprised to find that he was allowed to walk freely to his rooms. For a while, he wanted to forget about his mother…the legitimization…Mary. He wanted to be left alone, something he hadn´t been for weeks. He couldn´t forget the image of Mary´s face as she saw that they were back at court. She may have tried to hide it, but he could see straight through the brave façade that she put on; no doubt Francis could as well.


	17. Chapter Seventeen

Hey guys :D Here you have chapter seventeen - I have a feeling some of you will like it :) At least, I hope you will :) Please review and tell me what you think :)

Another thing, and I am sorry to say this, but I probably won´t upload a chapter tomorrow. With assignments and everything else, I haven´t had time to write any more chapters and I still don´t have any time tomorrow. Hopefully, I will have a chapter by Tuesday, though, I cannot make any promises. Again, I´m sorry...

* * *

**Chapter Seventeen:**

Mary tried not to flinch when she had seen Nostradamus enter the infirmary. She had tried her best to keep her emotions in check so the servants wouldn´t know anything was amiss. He noticed, of course, but didn´t show it. He was there to do his job as a physician, not a visionary.

As he got closer, Mary noticed his eyes cloud over. She frowned as he saw the surprised expression he wore as his eyes focused again and he looked at her. He dismissed the servant, leaving only the two of them in the room.

"You had a vision." It wasn´t a question, it was an observation and Mary demanded to know what it was. It obviously involved her, judging by the look he was giving her.

"Yes," Nostradamus replied. For a moment, Mary wondered if she was going to have to ask him to tell her, or if he was stalling to gather his thoughts. She was about to open her mouth when he spoke.

"You are carrying his child." The man turned away from her. He walked to the desk by the window and searched through several different bottles.

Mary was taken aback. Could he really be saying the truth? Was she pregnant? Of course she knew that it was possible. She had been taught the basics of the human anatomy. It had been nearly two months since she and Francis had…consummated. It was very possible.

Even so, a part of her did not believe him. He did say that she would be childless at the time that Francis would die, so how could she be pregnant? She needed to know exactly what Nostradamus had seen. Had he seen her visibly pregnant? Had he seen her with a young child? She could lose the baby and the Prophesy would still come true.

"I see you holding a child. A boy. He is the heir to the throne…" He sighed and searched Mary´s face for emotions. She tried to hide her disbelief, she really did. "My visions are still too unclear to see more."

Mary wasn´t sure if she believed that he was unable to see more, or that he refused to tell her more. Either way, she didn´t want to know more. She had already received more news that day than her brain was able to comprehend. She was pregnant. She was yet to marry and she was pregnant. Her fiancé refused to see her, never mind actually talking to her.

She knew that she had to tell Francis. She knew that he should be the first to know, but how would she ever succeed in doing that? He wouldn´t see her. She was bedridden and not allowed to leave the infirmary. It was clear to her that Francis had no intentions of coming to see her any time soon. He would be kept informed of her health by Nostradamus and unless a complication occurred, he wouldn´t show his face in the room.

She completely blocked out Nostradamus as he worked on some potion and she paid him no attention when he came to check on her. She wasn´t sure if he had talked to her at all, and she didn´t care. She used to respect Nostradamus. A part of her still did, but she would never look at him the same way after everything that had happened in the past two months. Earlier that day, an hour ago, even, she had been convinced that Nostradamus´ Prophesy would hold true. That had been before he had told her that she was pregnant. How could she believe him now? Could she even trust his new vision, the one with the baby boy? Could she trust that she was actually pregnant and that it was not just a hoax?

As she looked down at her abdomen, it was still as flat as it always was. There were no visible signs that he was right. No signs, except for the nausea and the absence of her monthly bleeding. Yes, she had no choice but to believe that she was indeed carrying the heir to the French-Scottish throne.

Her voice broke through the silence of the room making Nostradamus look at her with great interest.

"Do not tell Francis of…" she had to swallow at the word, still not completely comprehending it. "…my condition. I wish to be the one to tell him," she finished. She was not entirely sure that she could trust his word when he nodded. If Francis asked him if there were any changes, would Nostradamus tell him?

* * *

She was getting restless. She had spent several days in the infirmary. It had been days since she had seen Francis and she needed desperately to talk to him and tell him of the recent developments.

It was morning, just visible enough to see without a candle. She knew from the previous days that she had spent there, that Nostradamus wouldn´t come to see to her for another hour at least. This was her chance. She was reminded of the time she had done a similar thing in Lamballe, but shook the thought away. This was a completely different scenario. She wasn't running now. She wasn´t trying to get away from Francis, she was trying to find him when he refused to come on his own.

Mary sat up in the bed and waited there for a moment to steady herself. She hadn´t been up for nearly a week. Once she was sure that she could stand without the blood rushing to fast too her head and getting lightheaded, she stood up. She grabbed the rope that was slung over the back of a chair and put it on, tying the band around her waist with slightly shaking hands.

With another deep breath, she walked to the door and hesitated there for a moment before she exited the room.


	18. Chapter Eighteen

Awesome news! I finished the eighteenth chapter, half of the nineteenth and a Danish Assignment for school! I feel so productive :D One of our classes was cancelled today so I had extra time :D Good for you!

Anyways, the long awaited Frary confrontation is here! :D I hope it´s not too disappointing and that you actually like it :D Please review and tell me what you think :D

Another thing - You guys have given me eight reviews on the previous chapter (A new record for me!) and my story has gotten nearly 10.000 views :D You guys are awesome! Keep it up! You make putting ones work up here completely worth it!

* * *

**Chapter Eighteen:**

She felt undressed as she walked the halls in only her nightclothes and a robe. She wrapped the material tighter around her in a desperate attempt to cover herself more up. She prayed silently that she wouldn´t meet anyone on her way to Francis´ chambers. She especially hoped that she wouldn´t meet anyone who knew that she was supposed to be in the infirmary still. They would send her back instantly.

She tried to be silent as she walked along the halls. She was thankful that she wasn´t wearing heels as they would have made it hard. Before she knew it, she could see Francis rooms and the page that loyally stood outside. He looked surprised when he noticed her.

"Your grace," he exclaimed and bowed his head quickly. "The dauphin is not in at the moment," he told her, not meeting her eyes.

Mary nodded but she refused to give up so easily. This was the only chance she had a talking to him. "That is alright, I will just wait for him here," she said, knowing that it wasn´t appropriate. The page´s eyes widened at her words.

"Your grace, I can´t let you…I have orders," he stuttered. Mary just looked at him with a glare.

"The Scottish Queen is giving you new ones. Open the door," she ordered. The page, not in any position to argue with his future queen, nodded and with hesitance, opened the door for her.

She sat on the edge of the bed. She didn´t care how long she had to wait for him. She wasn´t leaving before he talked to her. He needed to hear her out.

* * *

It seemed like hours, but it might not have been more than one before she could hear the page talking again. He was desperately trying to warn Francis of her presence. If the circumstance had been different she might have laughed at the flustered page, but today she couldn´t.

She was startled when the doors flew open and she was met with a furious glare from Francis. "What are you doing here?" he asked as he walked to sit on the couch by the fireplace. It was quiet for a moment as he stared into the glowing embers.

Mary found that she couldn´t speak. In the hour that she had waited, she had gone over the entire conversation more times than she could count, but now, actually looking at him; all words were lost on her tongue. It took a while before she could make herself mutter in a small voice.

"We need to talk."

Francis shook his head, his back still turned to her. "I am not in the mood to have this talk with you right now." His shoulders were hunched forward and he looked like he hadn´t slept all night. Mary wondered for a moment if it would be better that she left, but she needed to tell him about their child; preferably before her condition became too visible.

"They arrested him," she heard him whisper just as she got up to leave. She was confused. Who was he talking about? Whose arrest could upset him this much?

"Who?" she finally asked, her voice cracked as she spoke.

"Bash. They arrested him for treason." He wanted to say more. He wanted to turn around at see her reaction, but he remained quiet and his eyes stayed focused on the fireplace.

His words made her blood run cold. She felt her heart plummet into her stomach and had to catch herself from collapsing. "What?" she whimpered.

"What kind of treason?" She got her voice back in control, but she still felt weakened all of a sudden. Her words made Francis turn to her, his eyes shooting daggers.

"What do you think? If it wasn´t for Scotland and your claim to England, Father would probably have you down there too," he yells. He didn´t mean to be harsh, but he needed her to understand to severity of what she and Sebastian did.

"They can´t…he can´t…Bash…It was my entire fault…Please don´t let them kill him, he only did what I asked him to," she begged with tears streaming down her cheeks. At the sight of her, Francis shook his head and laughed without humor.

"Of course you would defend him." Mary looked down at her feet. She knew that Francis already disliked her relationship with Sebastian enough as it was.

"It´s not like that…" she tried, but Francis shook his head, his eyes averted.

"Don´t bother, I don´t need to know the details of your relationship with my brother. I know enough," he said, dismissing her with his hands. She had come too far to simply give up and walk back to the infirmary. She needed to convince him that whatever she felt for Sebastian was nothing compared to the love she had for Francis.

"I didn´t leave for Bash. I left for you!" she screamed. She didn´t know where the sudden rage came from. She was overwhelmed with her own emotions and couldn´t sort through them.

Francis was surprised as well. His had whipped around and he looked at her. "That´s rich," he replied with a scoff. Mary could barely contain her anger. She never expected him to treat her this way. She knew that she deserved it, but she was still surprised to see this side of him.

"Yes for you Francis! I know you won´t believe me, but it´s true!" she screamed again. All of sudden she found strength that she didn´t know she had.

"Then tell me! How could you leaving with him possibly benefit me?!" he yelled. Mary had to swallow when Francis´ eyes burned into hers.

"Nostradamus said…" her voice was lowered when she spoke, but she was cut off by Francis.

"Nostradamus?! Are you seriously telling me that all the problems you´ve caused is tied to some ridiculous `Prophesy´ that that old claims that he has seen?!" He yelled incredulously. Mary could do nothing else than look down and nod.

"Great…just great," he mumbled. The way he said it…how would he ever believe her? How would he ever understand what it was about the Prophesy that made her leave? She had to try. She had to try to make him understand.

"You don´t understand, Francis…I didn´t want to believe him…" she replied, her voice as steady as it could be with all the different emotions raging through her.

"Then why did you?" he asked calmly. His head turned slightly to the side. For once, his words aren´t accusing, they are curious. Mary took a deep breath.

"He told me that one of my ladies would die…Aylee was found the next day…how could I not believe him?" she muttered. For a moment she was unsure of what Francis would say or do. Would he actually understand her or would he call her pathetic?

He seemed to hesitate for a moment before he sighed. "That could have a coincidence. Someone who wanted to avoid our wedding could have poisoned her and pushed her down the stairs. They would know that you would believe him then, and only then."

She lets his words sink in. She felt stupid with the way he put it. She felt like she had been so irresponsible and maybe she had. Then a much scarier and depressing thought occurred to her. If Nostradamus hadn´t told her about the Prophesy of one of her ladies´ death, would Aylee still be alive? Would she have married Francis that night?


	19. Chapter Nineteen

Hey guys :) Here is the next chapter :) I´m not too sure if I´m satisfied with it, so please tell me in all honesty what you think of it... It was kind of written in a hurry... I hope to have a chapter up Thursday at the latest, but I still cannot make any promises...

Another thing, I have this presentation thing tomorrow morning... please cross your fingers that it will go well... :) It´s in Social Studies.

* * *

**Chapter Nineteen:**

Mary sat on his bed. Her mind was spinning and she felt lightheaded. Maybe that was because she was pregnant, or maybe it was all the emotions and thoughts that her mind was trying to process. Overwhelmed with her hormones, she found herself crying. She tried to quiet the sobs but failed miserably.

Francis couldn´t take the sound. It had been hard enough to stay apart from her this long. He had no more fight left in him as he got up and crossed the room to take her in his arms. She melted into his embrace as she sobbed on his shoulder, gripping the material of his shirt tightly in her hands.

"I´m sorry," he could hear her whimper, the words muffled by his shirt. He didn´t want to talk anymore. He just wanted to stay in that moment with Mary in his arms.

"Don´t speak," he hushed her, placing a kiss in her hair. He held her tightly, never wanting to let go. No matter what happened between them, he missed her while she was gone and he didn´t want to push her away any further.

* * *

At some point, Mary got her emotions back in control. She was no longer crying, and her pathetic hiccups had stopped.

"I need to tell you something," she said. She was nervous and scared. Two months earlier he had told her that he had hoped for her to be pregnant, but so much had changed since then. What would he think now?

As if sensing her fear, Francis pulled back slightly, grabbed her hand and gave it a light squeeze as he looked into her eyes.

"What is it Mary?" he asked, worried. Mary hesitated, trying to think of the right way to tell him. "Mary?" he asked again when after a while she still hadn´t spoken.

"I…I´m…I´m pregnant…" she stuttered and refused to meet his eyes. She lost all hope when she felt his arms drop from around her. Was he angry? Was he upset? Even worse…did he regret it? If she had any tears left in her, she would possibly have started crying again when she saw Francis sit on the bed, obviously in shock. What was he going to do?

"Are you sure?" he asked after a moment of silence. Mary nodded, forgetting that he wasn´t looking at her.

"Yes, Nostradamus is certain." Francis may not have believed the man´s visions, but he had no choice but to trust his skills as a physician. After all, Nostradamus was the one to save his brother´s life when all hope seemed lost.

"Francis?" Mary inquired carefully after a seemingly endless silence. She had to know what he was thinking. He looked up, surprised to hear her voice. It was as if he had been lost in his own little world, trapped inside his own mind.

"Francis, please say something," she begged. She watched him take a deep breath and run his hands through his messy blond hair; hair that she found herself suddenly wondering if their son would inherit or if he would have her dark brown hair.

She was brought back to reality by Francis´ words.

"I honestly don´t know what to say, Mary. Two months ago, this wouldn't have been a problem…but now, with everything…I don´t know…Father will not be happy to hear about it," he admitted.

Mary felt her world crumble. Though standing within a meter distance from the love of her life, she never felt more alone. She knew that she could hardly say that she deserved it, but right at that moment she needed his support. She needed him to say that everything would be alright. It didn´t matter that it was a promise that he couldn´t keep, she just needed to hear it.

"My father will force you to lay claim to England. We need to keep you protected, now more than ever." His words stung her. He was looking at this from a political point of view. Just when she needed him to be "just Francis" he stepped up and became "Francis, dauphin and future king of France".

She wanted nothing more than to hear that he was happy that she was pregnant – other than just happy that he was getting an heir. She wanted and needed her Francis, but he wasn´t there.

She hung her head, refusing to meet his eyes. She couldn´t stay there. She couldn´t take it. She had lost Francis´ love, had she not? He would never look at her the same again.

She suddenly feels nauseous. Not able to hold it back, she ran to the bedpan and emptied her stomach, leaning over it. She was slightly startled when she felt a gentle hand on her back, rubbing circles.

"Mary, are you alright?" he asked, noticeably worried. When she was sure that her stomach was calm again, she raised her head and nodded slowly.

"I will be fine." Her words were merely a mutter but Francis heard her clearly. Both were silent for a moment, the warmth of their embrace long gone. Mary´s head was pounding with the stress of everything. She found herself surprisingly grateful when the page´s knocks interrupted them. It gave her an excuse to escape the unbearable silence that hung heavily in the air between them.

"I apologize for interrupting, your grace, but the King wishes to see you," the young man spoke. It seemed to Mary as if he was deliberately trying to avoid looking at her. She shook away the thought and looked at Francis in time to see him dismiss the page with a nod.

"Alright, thank you."

When the page had left the room and closed the door after him, Francis turned to Mary. "I have a feeling that you shouldn´t be there. Go back to the infirmary; I will come when I can."


	20. Chapter Twenty

Hey guys :) Thank you so much for the reviews - they mean so much to me :D

I woke up yesterday (wednesday) really nauseous, went downstairs to the bathroom, threw up (pardon the language) and went straight back to bed. Everyone who knows me, knows that I very rarely throw up, unless I am very sick... so I stayed home yesterday, hoping that I could maybe write some more to this story, but I simply had no energy to do it...

I am still sick today, but I did see the new episode of Reign (I won´t say anything to spoil it for those who haven´t seen it), and write one more chapter on this story :) I hope you like it - please give a sick girl some comments - I could really use it right now :)

* * *

**Chapter Twenty:**

Francis stood frozen in the hall as he watched Mary leave. He could hear the clicking of her shoes against the floor long after she disappeared around the corner. He stayed there until he could no longer hear the clicking and turned to walk in the direction of the throne room where his father waited.

King Henry was sitting on his throne when Francis entered. His face showed no emotions but Francis had learned long ago how to decode the signs when he was angry. He was gripping the armrest of the throne tightly, making his fingers white. He was tapping his feet was tapping on the floor anxiously. Yes, the King was definitely angry.

Neither spoke for a moment. Francis waited for his father to speak first.

"I have learned of the true reasons for Mary´s departure…" he trailed off. Francis looked up, filled with too many different emotions to distinguish them. He didn't know what to expect. What was his father going to do with this information? What had he already done?

* * *

He had to force one foot in front of the other as he walked down the hall. He tried his hardest to fight the wetness that clouded his eyes. He had known this was a possibility. He had known that this could happen, but he still couldn´t help feeling shocked that it actually did.

He didn´t know how he made it to the infirmary, but he found himself standing in front of the large wooden door in minutes. He hesitated for a moment before he knocked. He could hear noises from the inside, footsteps, before the door opened and he stared into the face of Nostradamus.

Not giving the older man a second glance, he walked around him to find Mary. She was lying in the bed and he had to have been blind not to notice the fear in her eyes. He found himself wondering if the shock of everything was so clear on his face.

Without thinking, he sat in the chair at Mary´s bedside, staring out in front of him. Too many thoughts were running through his head to really make sense of them. He felt it when Mary gently grabbed his hand in her delicate ones, but he didn't pull his hand away. It was not before that moment, that he understood just how much he needed her. He needed her to keep him calm.

Staring at their intertwined hands, he slowly found the courage to speak. "He knows about the Prophesy…"

Mary blinked in confusion and looked away from his face. What did that even mean? What consequences did it have that the King knew? Would he punish her for believing in it? Would he punish Catherine? Nostradamus?

She didn´t have time to ask before Francis answered her questions. "My mother somehow found out before he could confront her about it. She left. He has guards searching for her as we speak." He is surprised at how calm and steady his voice is.

Mary could do nothing except nod. What could she possibly say that could make any of this better? This was all her fault to begin with.

When Francis finally looked up and his eyes met hers, she was taken aback by the look of deep sorrow in them. She had never seen anything like it, but she imagined that it was the same look that he had when she left with Bash.

"If they find her, my father will have her executed for treason." He sighed deeply before he continued. "They are arresting Nostradamus now."

She didn´t want to bring it up again, but she realized that she had to. "And Bash?" she asked cautiously.

He didn´t look at her but there was nothing resentful in his eyes when he replied. "They are letting him go. Father believes that he only left to protect you."

For just a second, Mary felt guilty when she sighed of relief. Francis had lost his mother; the mother that would no doubt do anything for her son; a mother that he, no matter how many times he would deny it, so clearly loved as well.

"I´m sorry." Her small voice breaks through the silence. Would he ever be able to forgive her? Would she ever believe that she deserved it?

"You cannot blame yourself for their actions. They have to take responsibility for their decisions just as you have to take responsibility to yours." Mary simply nodded. She knew, deep down, that it was the truth, but she also knew that it would take some time before she would be able to really believe it.

* * *

Silence was hanging heavily in the air for a while. Their hands remained intertwined, neither wanting to lose the feeling of each other any time soon. Francis found himself staring at Mary´s abdomen, trying to imagine his son or daughter in there. It was surreal to him really. He remembered his words so clearly _"I hope you´re pregnant"_. Back then, everything had seemed perfect. He had been in a state of bliss. He was finally marrying the girl he loved. It seemed like that had been years rather than months ago as he sat there in the infirmary.

He was cautious as he reached forward. He wondered for a moment if it was appropriate and Mary would push him away. He placed his shaking hands on her flat stomach. He could feel Mary startle beside him. It was as if she had been in a completely different world and he had just brought her back to reality.

He couldn't actually feel anything, a fact that he was disappointed to find. He was surprised when he looked up at her to find her smiling at him as she gently placed her own on top of his. Neither spoke for a while. They didn´t need to. This moment was too precious to let words ruin it.


	21. Chapter Twenty-One

Hey guys :) Thank you so much for the reviews on the last chapter - I´m still a little sick, but I was in school today and it´s weekend now so I have a few days to relax at home :)

Anyway, here it is, the 21st chapter - the way things look now (I might change my mind later), there will only be one or two chapters left - most likely just one, though :)

I hope you like this one though :D And by the way, am I the only one who nearly fell off the couch during the new Reign episode? I did not see that coming! My poor Francis, I feel so bad for him :(

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-One:**

After a while, Mary found courage to ask a question that she had wanted to ask ever since he entered. "Did you tell him? Of the baby, I mean." She looked up, catching his eyes.

"I had to. You are already more than two months in…we have to get married as soon as possible." He saw Mary nod slowly as he spoke. She knew that he was right. She had to marry him, even if Nostradamus was right. She was carrying his son, a son that would only become an heir if his parents were wed. A wedding might have been avoidable if it wasn´t for the baby, but she could not bring herself to regret giving Francis her virtue.

"Do you want this?" she asked, searching his eyes for any signs of regret. Rubbing his face with his hands, he finally answered after what seemed like forever to Mary.

"I want you. Besides, shouldn´t I be the one asking you this?" he replied, looking at her expectantly. She looked down at her lap again, at his hand that was still placed on her abdomen.

She wanted to tell him that she would have wanted to marry him even if it wasn´t for the child, but she couldn´t. She was doing this for her son, but in the end, she couldn´t deny the part of her that knew that she wanted and needed Francis in her life. "I love you, Francis. I never want to lose you," she replied after a moment. It wasn´t what he wanted to hear, she knew that, but it was all that she could give him and still tell him the truth. She had had enough of lying to him. He deserved to know how she really felt.

It wasn´t as if the time she would have with Francis as his wife would be unhappy. It was all she ever wanted, but her happiness would always be eclipsed by the fear of losing him. How long time did she have with him after their wedding? A month? Two? Three? A year? Would he get to meet their son at all? She flinched inwardly at the mere thought of it. She wasn´t sure that she could do it without him. She needed him to get her through the pregnancy. She needed him to support her when their child finally arrived. Most of all, their son needed a father. He needed someone to teach him all the things that she couldn´t. Her son needed someone to teach him to be a good king and a merciful ruler.

"I love you, Mary. I hate what you did but I love you, never forget that," he murmured after a while. Mary looked up at him. She was surprised to hear it. It was those exact words that she had needed to hear for days now. She was reminded of her own words, the ones she had spoken the day she left. _"I want you to know, whatever happens, that I love you". _

"Despite everything that I have done; everything I have caused?" she asked, sounding weaker than she meant to. She saw Francis nod slowly.

"It will take some time to forgive you, but that doesn't change my love for you. I want to marry you; I want you to be my wife."

* * *

He came to her rooms, Francis, on the first night after she was allowed to leave the infirmary. He had bribed her guard to keep his visit a secret. The guard had been hesitant, but he couldn´t very well argue against the prince, his future king. He knew what happened to guards that disobeyed orders.

Mary had been surprised to find him there. She had been dressed in only her nightgown, ready for bed. She had tried to cover herself up, but Francis had simply smirked at her and taken the blanket from her hands.

"Francis!" she exclaimed, but her voice was teasing, not angered. The last time he had heard her say his name like that was when he´d uttered the words _"I hope you're pregnant"_. Everything about their current situation was brought back to him and he looked down to see the slight swell of her stomach that was visible through Mary´s nightgown.

He had shrugged off the thought and concentrated on the beautiful woman in front of him, the woman he could call his fiancée, the woman he would be calling his wife by the end of the week. Her dark hair was curled and slung over one shoulder.

Though she had tried to push him away at first, he didn´t have to try hard at seducing her before she gave in. He had been placing warm, wet kisses on her lips, face, neck and ear. She soon lost all her willpower to fight him and it didn´t take long before she found herself completely surrendered to him.

* * *

Her hand was placed on his chest as she tried to regain control of her breathing. Many thoughts were running through her head. Many of which were tied to the Prophesy. Francis had told her several times that she should stop worrying. They were to be King and Queen, ruling over three kingdoms, they would be able to choose their own fate. She had to stay headstrong and rule with a clear head. Even so, she still found herself worrying about their future as she watched him sleep. She mostly worried that she would be on her own before their son was even born; that her son would never know his father except through the stories that she would tell him.


	22. Epilogue

Hey guys :) I know that it took me forever to write this, but I wanted it to be perfect and then I realized that there was a lot that I still wanted to have happen and I didn´t want to split it up so...now you have three (nearly four) chapters´ worth of epilogue :D

Anyway, I hope you enjoy it :) Please tell me honestly what you think :)

* * *

**Epilogue:**

The sound of a small child´s wails broke through the silence in the castle. It had been a common occurrence for days. After all, even royal babies cry.

The young woman rose from her bed and carefully picked up the crying child. Only sixteen years old, the girl rocked her son back and forth, hoping that he would fall back asleep soon. As Queen of Scotland and Queen Regnant of France for her little son, she did have the option of calling for a handmaiden to do it for her, but she had refused each time that she had been asked.

"Please James, go back to sleep, I beg of you," she whispered in a tired voice as she rocked the baby back and forth. It was on late nights like this one, that she missed Francis the most. He would have kept her from growing irritated with the sleep deprivation. He would have kept her calm when her son refused to sleep. He would wrap his arms around her and hold her and their son until both would drift off peacefully.

* * *

_The bells were ringing loudly, calling all invited guests into the chapel. Excited chatting filled every corner of the castle. This wedding had been anticipated for a long time. The groom smiled happily as he greeted the guests. _

_The bride was in her chambers, getting dressed with the help of her ladies. As the white dress was pulled over her head, she was relieved to find that the skirt effortlessly covered the slight swell of her abdomen. No one had to know of her pregnancy before they were wed. _

_She was shaking with terror as her mother, Marie de Guise, entered her rooms. The older woman smiled sweetly as she took in the sight of her beautiful daughter; a daughter that she hadn´t seen since she sent her off to France at the age of six. "It is time, Mary, they are waiting for you," she said, offering the younger woman a half-hearted hug. "Yes, Mother," the girl replied with a nod. _

_She could barely make her feet move in front of her. The reason for her terror wasn´t that she didn´t want to marry Francis. He was the love of her life. Marrying him was all she had wanted since she met him as a child. They had been best friends then. The reason she was terrified however, was because she was worried that this would be the day that Francis´ fate would be sealed. If the late visionary was right, her union would bring around his death. _

_The young queen easily hid her emotions behind a forced smile as she headed for the chapel to meet her fiancée. He smiled at her as soon as his eyes locked on her. She wished that could be happy for just that one day, but even the smile she gave him as their hands connected by the altar was faked._

_The only time that day when she genuinely smiled was when she and Francis had danced. In his arms, he had made her forget about the world around them. There was no Prophesy. There were no kingdoms that needed protection. There were no responsibilities. It was just the two of them, grinning brightly at each other. _

_Of course she had been nervous when she was pulled away from the party. It was time for the consummation. It did not matter that she wasn´t a virgin; that she had already been in Francis´ arms. Having an audience to such an intimate moment was not something she looked forward to. _

_Francis had taken her hands and smiled warmly at her. He tried to calm her, but in the end it was actually Prince Philip´s words to Elisabeth on their wedding night that helped her. _"We are the only ones that matter here"._ It was all it took to let herself give in to Francis as he pushed her backwards toward the bed. He was hers and she was his, truly. _

* * *

Mary smiled when she realized that, sometime during her reverie, the baby had finally stopped crying. She expected him to be asleep, but as she looked down, she found his blue eyes staring back at her. She felt a pang in her chest, looking at those eyes; eyes that were so clearly like his father´s. If she did not know better, she would think that the boy actually understood what was going on.

* * *

She was lonely. She was alone. Her ladies, however much she had wanted them to stay, had left for marriage.

Kenna, lovely Kenna, had obtained the position as the king´s official mistress when King Henry had accepted that Diane de Poitier was never returning to the castle. When King Henry had died in a supposed hunting accident, two months after Mary and Francis´ marriage, she would have been forced to leave the castle had it not been for Mary´s pleas to let her stay. Kenna had been there for her, of course, after Francis had died, had stayed with her for the first few days, but had gone back to her own rooms after James was born.

Lola met Sir William Maitland of Lethington who had been invited to the royal wedding. They had been introduced that night and he had taken a liking to her immediately upon seeing her. They had begun courting each other even though he was many years her senior.

When Mary had asked, Lola had told her that she was happy with him. It was all that Mary could hope for. After everything that her dear friend had been through, she deserved to find a man that would treat her well and maybe even love her. Sir William had asked Mary for permission to ask for Lola´s hand in marriage a few months later. Of course she had agreed.

It had been a tearful goodbye between the two friends before Lola had stepped into the carriage that took her away from the castle to her new home. Mary continued to receive letters from her, but it would never be the same as having her friend there to comfort her.

* * *

Greer had been the one to surprise her the most. She had asked for an audience with Mary and Francis one day, a month after their coronation. Mary had been confused at first, asking why Greer couldn´t tell her while she was helping her dress, but the lady had refused. She had understood of course, once they were gathered at the audience.

Her lady and friend through ten years, nearly, stood in front of them, telling the tale of how she had fallen for a kitchen boy named Leith. Mary could hardly believe her ears and her eyes focused on Francis and his reaction. After all, granting a title or duchy to a peasant as Greer was asking, was not really her decision in the end, it was his as king. There was no doubt to Mary that Greer loved the boy, and she hoped, for the sake of her friend, that her husband could see it too.

To her, Francis seemed unconvinced at first. He might have wanted to do it, for the sake of love, but as a king, he had to make decisions based on the best of his kingdoms. He was more willing when he learned that Leith had taken a great role in the rescue of Mary and her ladies when Count Vincent had taken the castle.

Mary was horrified to hear what her friend had been through that night. They had all been through much, but Greer had never been able to talk about it with anyone. Knowing that the Italian guard could have gone to warn the Count about the servants' disappearance and thereby completely destroying the plan and endangering Mary, Catherine and the ladies, Francis realized that the man in question deserved acknowledgment for his noble actions.

He was wary of giving in, of course. As a king, he couldn´t be seen as weak, giving out titles here and there to servants, but he also knew that it would be of great advantage to the realm if he was seen as goodhearted and liked by his people. It could prove very important, should uprisings occur.

With much seriousness, he had accepted to meet the man in question. Mary wanted to be there, but Francis insisted that it would a boring meeting and that surely there was some other activity that she wanted to do. All Mary was told of the meeting afterwards was that Leith had been granted a duchy and was to start the grooming to prepare him for the responsibility. Mary didn´t have to ask to know that Francis was still unsure of his decision and knew that he would be keeping a close eye on the man.

Greer had been more than grateful. Mary knew that the lady would never have asked if it wasn´t for the deep worry she had for her younger sisters. She could have run off with Leith, leaving behind all responsibilities but she could never make herself do that, God knows that there were times that she wanted to.

Mary, sharing her husband´s worries, simply smiled kindly when the lady brought up her betrothed and their plans to marry. Having met the man that Greer had so clearly fallen for, there was no doubt to Mary that he would be good to her, but would that be enough?

Francis was prepared to take away the duchy the moment it would become a threat to the throne or France in general. Mary tried to tell Greer of this, but she could only hope that her friend fully understood the severity of the situation.

Mary continued to write to her, after she had left with her fiancée to their new home where Leith would continue the training. She would write often at first, but the duties of both women took over soon and the letters became less and less frequent. A friendship was hard to maintain when they were separated. This was the prize she had to pay as queen. Her duty to her countries would always come before her friends.

* * *

The only company Mary had really had for the last few weeks were that of servants and the ladies that would tend to her needs. Kenna would visit, but she was always uncomfortable with being there. She had no idea what to say to her obviously mourning queen.

All Mary really wanted, and she would most likely never tell anyone of this, was someone to assure her of their love. It was on nights like this one, nights were the lack of sleep caused her to remember every bad or good thing that had happened in the previous year, that she desperately needed the love.

She tried not to, but her mind started wandering and suddenly she was remembering the worst day of them all. She was remembering the day she had held Francis´ hand and told him that she loved him for the last time.

* * *

_They had been on the throne as King and Queen of France for a little more than two months. King Henry had died previously, leaving Kenna to mourn him while Catherine was planning the coronation of her son and his wife._

_It was bittersweet to Francis, as he stood there, in front of his people with a crown on his head, his father´s crown. He had known his entire life that his father would have to die before he became king, but it was still strange to him that his father was absent. Mary could tell that Francis was putting on a brave face that day. Yes, he might not have been his father´s favorite or agreed with the older man on all aspects, but it was still his father, the man who had taught him almost everything he knew. _

_The official story of Henry´s death was that he had been struck by a stray arrow during a hunt and had died instantly. Every guard confirmed the story, but Francis still doubted it. His father had many enemies, every ruler did, and any one of those enemies could have hired someone to assassinate the king. The men had been unable to find the assassin and Francis had no evidence. _

_It had been a surprise to Mary how quickly Catherine threw herself into the work of preparing the coronation. It was no secret that Catherine disliked her husband greatly, but was there really no part of her that would mourn the loss of the man that she had been married to for decades? Within a week of the death of King Henry, Francis and Mary, who was in her sixth month of pregnancy, had been crowned. _

_The day Mary received a letter from the spy that she had placed within the Royal English Court; she was both horrified and anxious. The English Tudor Queen had died, having been bedridden with illness for many months now. Though King Henry was no longer there to force her to claim the English throne and Francis wouldn´t force her into doing something that she was still doubting was a good idea for both of their countries, she had the pressure of her Scottish and French advisors to answer to. They wanted her to claim England. Her mother wanted her to claim England. She had no choice really. _

_As Catherine had predicted, there were uprisings in England. The Catholics supported Mary´s claim and wanted her on the throne of their country, but the Protestant refused to believe her legitimacy. They wanted the protestant Elizabeth on the throne. Neighbor turned on neighbor and fighting occurred nearly everywhere you looked. France sent men there, to fight the uprisings and try to regain peace, but it hadn´t been enough. _

_She remembered clearly the night where he came up with the idea that ended up costing his life. He had been frustrated. Mary, being in her eighth month had entered her confinement period, had been unable to attend all the meetings with advisors. Francis was stuck in the throne room in meetings all day. When he came back to their chambers every night, he was exhausted. He was frustrated that all plans seemed pointless. Mary had tried her best to motivate him to keep trying. He was a good king and he would find a way, she believed in him. _

_Oh how she wished that she could take back those words that night. He had been eager to tell her of his plan, one that he had come up with on his own. He would go to England. He would meet with the people there, give them a face to go with the name, instill trust in them that the French and Scottish crown only wanted the best for them._

_Mary had been horrified. Did he not know of the risks of going to a country where many people hated him and his wife more than anything? _

_He had been mad when she had objected to it. She knew that it was simply frustrations, but in her hormonal state, she took great offend. She had thrown him out of the room. They had been screaming at each other and now, thinking back, Mary couldn´t even remember the words. She sincerely wished that she had tried harder to make him stay. He might have still been alive if she had just tried a little harder, if she hadn´t given up. _

_She had clung to him tightly as they had been lying in bed the night before he was to leave. Francis had fallen asleep, probably thinking that she was asleep before him as she usually was. She wanted to sleep. She wanted to escape reality and dream of her future with Francis and their child, but every time she closed her eyes, she quickly opened them again. It was as if she kept checking to see if he was still there. _

_Her body was exhausted but her mind was too worried to let go. She lied there for what seemed like hours, holding him, listening to his breathing, taking in the innocence of his face as he slept peacefully. She stroked his chin, trying to memorize the way it felt under her fingertips. She placed her head above his heart, trying to remember the way it would beat against her cheek. _

_She had a bad feeling in her gut as he got on his horse and rode off with his men. Somehow, Mary just knew that she would never see her husband again and it shattered her heart. All she really wanted was to curl up in the bed in the chamber that she shared with Francis, so she could soak up the remaining scent that he left behind. Of course she couldn´t do that. She was a queen and while her husband was away, only temporary to everyone else, she was in charge and there were many decisions to be made. _

_She was distant. Her ladies had noticed it, but they wouldn´t ask. They knew about the Prophesy. Of course they understood that Mary would be worried when Francis was completely out of her reach, out of her sight. She felt helpless. All she could do was to wait. _

* * *

_She still remembered the sound of everyone rushing about. She still remembered the words of the servants that came to her rooms that night as the sun was setting. He wore a grave expression as he bowed his head quickly. His voice was stuttering as he spoke the words that made her blood run cold. "Your Grace, the king…he has returned…he is in the infirmary…he is injured…" _

_She had walked as fast as her expanded abdomen had allowed her. To her, it was not fast enough. It seemed to take forever for her to reach the infirmary, and when she did, she was out of breath. _

"_Francis…" she choked out at the sight in front of her. The injured man in front of her was nothing like her beautiful Francis. This man was pale and dirty. He was bloody and shaking with fever. But she felt a shiver run down her spine as the deep blue eyes locked on her brown ones. This was her Francis and this was the moment she had feared the most. She was losing him. _

_He tried to smile; at least, that was what Mary made of the grimace that came over his features. With a little struggle, Mary sat on the floor beside him. _

"_I´m sorry, Mary," Francis whispered. Mary looked up at the sound of his voice and shook her head with tears streaming down her cheeks. She opened her mouth to speak, but only a strangled cry escaped her lips. She felt his hand lift to her cheek and ignored the wetness of the blood as it smeared across her face. She leaned into the touch, desperately trying to hold onto him a little longer. _

"_Mary…I love you…I have always loved you," he whispered with a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. She sobbed and nodded. _

"_I love you, Francis…" she cried and leant forward over his chest, as far as her belly allowed her to, hugging him closely. _

_It took a while for her to register when his heart stopped beating underneath her. When she did, she sat up slightly and looked as his face. His eyes were closed and the corners of his lips were still raised in the ghost of a smile as before. He was handsome, even with the blood and dirt. She leaned closer and pressed her lips to his and was surprised to find them cold. _

_It took all in her to whisper her next words before she broke down completely. "Wait for me, Francis. Promise me that you will wait for me." _

* * *

Deep down, she had known that he was gone. Still, she had stayed there on the tiled floor beside her dead husband, holding his lifeless hand. She refused to let go. She refused to let him slip away from her, even though he already had. She was just sitting there, staring out ahead of her with a blank expression. Tears were quietly streaming down her cheeks as she ignored all the servants and the physician around her. She and Francis were the only ones there.

The first few days were a blur to her. She remembered nothing. She didn´t remember who came to see her. She didn´t remember eating anything. She did, she had to. Her midwife was forcing her to eat something, for her child´s sake. She had been so out of it that she hadn´t noticed when the pains started before they were unbearable and she was screaming.

* * *

_Even the birth was a blur to her. She remembered pain and tears and screaming. She had completely blocked out the world around her. She was holding on to the last memories that she had of Francis, trying to get through the night. _

_It was as if her brain instantly focused on the happenings around her when she heard the cries of her newborn child. The midwife was beaming with sweat on her brow as she carefully wrapped the baby. Mary was surprised at how much her arms were shaking as she reached out for the bundle. He was so small, her son. He was beautiful. He was perfect. Her eyes clouded over with tears and she brought her lips to the baby´s forehead in a gentle kiss. _

_She shut out all the other women in the room and focused everything on the tiny creature in her arms. The tiny child that was half her and half Francis. The tiny child that was the only part of Francis that she had left in the world. _

* * *

Looking down at the child, peacefully sleeping in his mother´s arms, she couldn´t help the smile that spread on her lips. With her free hand, she carefully caressed her son´s already unruly dark hair. If he had been awake, she would have been able to stare at his deep blue eyes for days at a time.

"Mama loves you, James. I love you so much," she whispered gently as she took his small, delicate hand and pressed it against her lips.

_The End_


End file.
